A Price to Pay
by Sweetwater Gal
Summary: A simple suggestion leads Joan to become a part of Gavin Price's life, but at what cost? COMPLETED!
1. Prologue: The Bus Ride

Title: **A Price To Pay**

Author: _Sweetwater Gal_... aka me! *big grin* 

Rating: more or less PG-13ish... 

Teaser: A simple suggestion leads Joan to become a part of Gavin Price's life, but at what cost?   
  
Disclaimer: All the characters are a part of Barbara Hall's imagination, and CBS-Sony entertainment. I also unfortunately do not own Adam/Chris, CBG/Kris or Price/Patrick *pouts* And if I owned Adam... he'd be with Joan and not Iris. *big grin* 

Spoilers: Takes place after "Night without Stars" and before any other episodes after that doesn't apply to this story. 

Author's Note: _Honestly, what's more icky? Joan being paired with CuteGuyGod or Mr. Price? Don't give up on me and my twisted imagination because believe it or not, the ending will ultimately make any Joan/Adam fan happy. Oops! Spoiled my own ending... darn *wink* By the way, this is my first attempt at writing a JoA chapter fanfic so please be patient. Just like BHall, I've already mapped the whole thing out... it just needs to be written out... Don't forget to read and review w/ no flames b/c I'm sure that my CGG worship will land me in the place of hotness._   
  
**_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_**

**Prologue: The Bus Ride**

Joan Giradi had, believe it or not, something far more worst to deal with than Grace's insistence of beheading Cousin It. Cousin It being their Adam's new girlfriend, Iris. 

She stared out at the window of the bus as it strolled through downtown Arcadia. With a frustrated groan, she recalled how she had gotten to this point and how she wasn't at all surprised to be here. Especially considering how her life was just getting back to... _normal_. Then again, when you talked to God on a regular basis, Joan figured that she had every right to be paranoid lately at her newfound fortune. 

Why oh why couldn't God be more like... well, like _Grace_? At least some of Grace's "suggestions and advice" were a lot more easier to swallow. Like thinking up ways to get rid of It. Joan by all means didn't wish any harm on Iris, but when it came to Adam Rove, Joan couldn't help but not like the girl. Call it jealousy (definitely on Joan's behalf) or call it being defensive (Grace took over on this territory), whatever... Grace, and especially Joan, wanted Iris to leave their Adam alone. 

But has God given her suggestions like that? Oh no. No, no... instead Joan had to deal with suggestions like getting a job (one that deals having to deal with a snippy boss), doing better in school (like she wasn't already trying her best!), join the chess club, join the debate team, take the school's ticking time bomb to the dance (granted that things seemed to work out at the end), take care of kids, smash Adam's art work... well, fine, God didn't tell her to do that, but she did it anyway because God wasn't clear enough to her on why Adam shouldn't participate in the art show! So technically, Joan still kind of placed God as the being that told her to do it... 

And this latest one? Ha! Joan knew she should've seen this coming the _second_ the entire Arcadia High student body started buzzing about the latest gossip: Vice Principal Gavin Price's absence. 

Joan knocked her head softly on the window, thinking sullenly, "And today started out so great..." 

Everyone at school couldn't stop talking about Mr. Price. How he wouldn't be attending school for a couple of weeks because of an unfortunate mishap that occurred at home. An incident that was as mysterious as the seriousness of his condition. It seemed that the only one that knew even some of the details was Principal Chadwick... and he wasn't talking. 

Joan couldn't even get a single detail from her mother, Helen. Not that it mattered because despite whether Helen knew the details or not, Joan was amused at watching her mother doing a horrible job at hiding her glee of being Price-free for weeks. 

As Joan regarded the looming building now appearing over the horizon, she started grumbling how she couldn't even savor that day's highlight. Okay, granted it had been somewhat mildly strained even before the Almighty of Bad Timing showed up... 


	2. Chapter One: Wizard of Oz and a Funny Go...

Chapter One: Wizard of Oz and a Funny God

All throughout AP chemistry, Joan and Adam had been privy to a one time performance of Grace humming. Yes, their very own leather jacket, political savvy, best friend Grace Polk was _humming_. Which not just threw Joan off, but it amused her non the less for she knew of the reason behind Grace's sudden cheerful mood.

"She was _actually_ humming! In AP Chem! Can you believe that?" Joan laughed as the three of them exited the classroom. Grace walked ahead of Joan and Adam, still humming. Adam chuckled softly, more so at Joan being excited at pointing out Grace's good mood.

"What is she humming anyway?" Adam asked, walking the girls over to their lockers.

"That 'Wizard of Oz' song, I think."

"_Follow the yellow brick road_?" He regarded Grace, surprised that she knew that song.

At their lockers, Grace turned to glare at Adam, to which Joan tried to suppress a giggle as she corrected him. "I think it's maybe _Ding dong the witch is dead_."

"More like _Ding Dong the Fascist Dictator is Incapacitated_." Grace laughed, tossing her books into her locker and slamming it shut. "So Giradi, you seriously got nothing from your mother? No gory details as to how it happened?"

Joan turned to her own locker, then shaking her head, "None. Sorry, Grace. All I got was that Price had gotten mad hurt enough to be unable to attend school for the next few weeks..."

"Your mom works with Price, Giradi. This is one of those very rare occurrences where it's good to know someone working for and with the enemy." Grace stared at Joan, mildly surprised that Joan had no clue as to how their ever beloved Vice Principal had gotten injured over the weekend. 

"All I know is that my mom had gotten a call this past Saturday from a co-worker. That apparently, Price had gotten mysteriously injured and was taken to the hospital. And that was straight from Principal Chadwick himself. Price isn't coming back to school until probably the end of next month. You should've seen my mother, trying her best to be all sympathetic. All the while suppressing relieved giddiness."

"Well," Grace began, "Who could blame her? Take a look around you, Giradi. Not a one person in this cell block misses him one. Bit." She regarded someone a few lockers away. Her gazed suddenly focused on Luke, Joan's younger brother. 

Luke was having a conversation with his friend, Friedman. He was talking in a calm manner, though the relaxed grin that refused to leave his face caused Grace to comment, "Even Science Boy, a.k.a. one of Price's lackey's, is trying his best not to look completely ecstatic over Price's absence."

Joan glanced at Adam, whose head was now lowered, his gaze fixated on his sketch pad, "What about you?"

"What about me?" He replied, making it quite obvious that he wasn't paying much attention to the conversation. Adam looked up at Joan, while his drawing hand absently played with the lines made by his pencil.

Giving him a friendly smile, "About Price. How do you feel?"

Adam, being Adam, just gave a small shrug. "I don't know. I don't exactly wish anything bad to happen to him... but he's just..." His eyes held onto Joan's as he finished, "He's Price."

"Yeah, and we've all heard Adam's coffin story enough to know that Mr. Gavin--VP with a stick up his ass--Price will not be missed by _anyone_. News like this actually give me cause to believe that there is a God..." Grace smirked.

Joan bit her lower lip and briefly glanced heavenwards. Her gaze returned towards her friends, just as Grace added, "Or at least in some kind of higher power."

"Hey." 

Joan tried her best to refrain from wincing at the voice, though Grace was more than glad to comment with an annoyed "Then again..."

"Hey, Iris." Adam smiled, his eyes regarding his petite girlfriend with a look that made Joan's heart break. He casually allowed Iris's hand to slip into his, which Joan managed to brace herself for.

Iris turned her attention from Adam to his best friends. Grinning at them, "Hey Joan, Grace. How was AP chemistry?"

Before both girls could come up with an excuse to _avoid_ conversation with her, Adam piped up with, "Grace was humming that 'Wizard of Oz' song."

"Oh?" Iris's eyes lit up, interested, "Was it _Somewhere over the rainbow_? That's my mom's favorite."

Joan glanced nervously at Grace, fearing for her response. More so for Adam's sake because it would probably be a bitch to get a new girlfriend...

However, Grace being Grace... "Actually it was _Ding dong Price is incapacitated_. I could teach you the words, but I've heard that you're against promoting violent tendencies towards mankind. Though," Grace glanced at Joan, "I honestly don't see how Price getting injured would be considered a _disservice_ towards humanity..."

Iris blinked at Grace's words, though hearing one of Grace's tangents wasn't a new development to the others. Joan bit back a haughty grin, while Adam's eyes averted back and forth nervously between Grace and Iris. His eyes finally landed on Joan's, somewhat pleading for her to prevent anything bad from happening between the two girls. Though Adam wasn't _completely _aware of all his surroundings, he was in tuned to those closest to him. He knew that Grace didn't like Iris too much, but he figured that if Joan could accept Iris... it'd only be a matter of time and patience until Grace felt the same way.

Finally, it was Iris that broke the awkward silence that surrounded them. "I know that Mr. Price isn't everyone's favorite person..." She began, but was interrupted by Grace.

"He's certainly not on Rove's Christmas list either."

Joan wasn't the only one that noticed Iris's look of surprise at that information. Taking full advantage of that, Grace smirked, "You didn't know? Don't tell us that Rove didn't tell you his 'coffin' story."

"Jane..." Adam turned to Joan, his voice soft and pleading. Joan could only give him a helpless look as Grace's own eyes sparkled as she added even more fuel to the fire.

"Did he at least tell you why he's given his _friend_ over here the sickly sweet nickname of Jane?"

"Grace..." Joan placed a hand on her friend's arm. Slightly warning, "I don't think..."

Grace shrugged off Joan's hand, crossing her own arms as she snipped, "Relax, Giradi. Just doing what I've been asking you to do."

Much to Joan's relief, Iris was too focused on Adam to ask about Grace's last comment. Iris gave Adam this mixed look of hurt and curiosity as she asked, "You wouldn't tell me the other night, or the nights before, why you didn't like Price. Nor would you explain why you called Joan Jane... yet you have no problem letting Grace in on those answers?"

"Well," Joan spoke up, wanting desperately to protect Adam. "On Adam's behalf, you have to consider the fact that he's known Grace a long time!"

"Tighty whities, remember?" Grace smirked, which earned her a "Not helping" glare from Joan.

"I've told you nearly everything about me, Adam..." Iris whispered, her voice betraying her hurt.

Adam opened his own mouth, about to defending himself when Grace chimed in with a final blow that sent Iris walking away. "Yeah, well, guess Rove doesn't trust you enough with everything."

Joan closed her eyes, wincing at the harsh reality of Grace's words. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she felt bad for Iris. Despite, Joan thought with soft delight, it having drove a wedge between the couple. 

Adam watched as Iris gave him this one last pained look before turning on her heels and leaving the group. He watched her go, stunned and confused. He finally turned towards the other two girls in his life, giving them each a different look. With Grace, it was one of pain and disbelief. With Joan, it was one of helplessness.

Joan returned the look, honestly at a lost for words. Her own emotions were mixed up because as thrilled as she of the possibility of an Adam/Iris break up... she didn't want Adam to feel anymore pain. Hell, she's already given him enough of that the past year.

He gave one big sigh before leaving them. Not even a word of good bye or an acknowledged nod of the head. Adam just silently turned towards the direction Iris exited and left his best friends.

"Nice one, Giradi." Joan had watched Adam leave them, then blinked in surprise at the sharpness in Grace's voice.

"What?"

Grace scowled, indicating towards Adam. "You're going to let him chase after her like some whipped puppy going after its master?"

"Why not? That's his _girlfriend_, Grace. Whether we like it or not..." Joan felt herself grimace at referring to Iris as Adam's girlfriend. "And don't you think you were kind of harsh on her?"

"Oh come on, Giradi! Admit it," Grace smirked, "You enjoyed watching me shatter her conception of being the only one privileged to the real Adam Rove."

Unable to hid a smile, "It was still kind of cruel..."

"What? You have no problem wrecking his art _yet_ you have some moral high code for protecting his girlfriend's feelings? You like him, right?"

Joan wanted to comment about the whole art show fiasco, but vouched that this was a subject not worth defending herself again. Instead she answered the second question, "I don't get how my feelings towards Adam..."

Not letting her avoid the subject, "Yes or no, Giradi?"

"Yes! Okay? I like Adam!" Joan stubbornly admitted, allowing a frustrated groan to escape her lips. "You happy?"

Grace patted Joan on the arm before turning and leaving her with the final thought of, "Then do us both a favor and get rid of her! Your father's Italian, right? He's from Chicago? I'm sure the man has some connections, cop or not..."

Joan held back a laugh. "And here I thought you of all people avoided stereotyping!" She shook her head, smiling as she watched Grace leave before turning back to shut her locker.

Just as Joan was about to head towards her mother's classroom, giving her a heads up that she was stopping off at the mall for a much needed smoothie, she had heard a noise of books being dropped coming from behind her. Joan turned, seeing a young woman in a soccer uniform stumble to pick up her books. She especially took note of the fact that the young woman was wearing a cast on her right foot and had crutches, to which Joan decided to help her out.

"Hey, let me help you with that." Joan approached the fellow student and also kneeled down to pick up the textbooks.

"Thank you." The soccer student smiled kindly at Joan.

"No problem," Joan returned the smile. With one hand holding the books, she used the other to help the girl to her feet. Once the young woman was well balanced on her crutches, Joan gladly handed the books. "Here you go."

"Thank you," The young woman began, accepting the books from Joan. Her eyes were twinkling warmly at Joan, causing a queasy stir in her stomach. It was a look Joan actually recognized. The "young woman" confirmed Joan's suspicions with, "I appreciate the help, Joan."

Joan nodded, her usual annoyance stirring within. She regarded the crutches and the cast. Unable to help herself, "What happened to you? Fall out of your heavenly throne?"

With a small chuckle, "That's funny, Joan. You've got yourself quite the sense of humor."

"Well, I figured that since I'm dealing with _God_... one might need it just to stay, I don't know... _sane_? So seriously, what's with the cast? And more to the point, why are you here?"

God didn't miss a beat in replying, "The cast is thematic, Joan. And as for why I'm here... well, it would take more than just one lifetime for me to truly explain to you of my entire existence."

"Now look whose trying to be funny. Though... I'm **not** laughing." Joan crossed her arms, clearly not amused. "You know very well what I meant."

There was a sparkle of amusement in God's eyes. "Fine, if you didn't find the humor in that, let me try this one. See, there was this man that had gotten himself hospitalized. There's also this Omniscient Being that decided to suggest to a young woman to visit said man in hospital. Now, are you ready for the punch line? You're going to love this... Gavin Price is the man, I'm the Omniscient Being, and _you_ are the young woman being asked to visit Mr. Price." God took a beat before adding, "You're right, Joan. I am funny."

Joan's mouth dropped, stunned. Before she could even remotely protest, God reached over, gave a neat pat on Joan's shoulder, then turned and hobbled away from her.

"Wait! What? You want me to do _what_?" She finally found her voice, and it was an angry and frustrated one at that. As God gave her the infamous back-hand wave, Joan cried out, "I hope you break that other leg!"


	3. Chapter Two: Not a Hallmark Card

A/N: Hehe... okay, granted this is a short chapter but thank you all for R&R. Or at least reading it! LOL It's all in my head... I just need to type it out. Enjoy!

**Chapter Two: Not a Hallmark card**

"Uh, excuse me?" Joan approached the woman behind the counter. As soon as Joan had gotten off the bus, she made a beeline towards the hospital, straight to the waiting area and towards the nearest receptionist. Just like receiving a shot, Joan wanted to get this "assignment" over with as quickly and painlessly as possible. 

It was only quarter to four in the afternoon. Joan figured that she'll make her visit with Price as short as possible, ten minutes tops, stop over at the mall, grab her smoothie, then head on home by five o'clock and no one would be the wiser. She had told her mom that she was going to be at the mall, which wasn't exactly a _lie_... just one half of the whole truth. Joan just couldn't deal with her mother's barrage of questions as to why her daughter felt this "need" to visit Mr. Price. A man that they both could do without in their lives.

Joan was greeted by the receptionist, an older Chinese woman with a pleasant smile. Her eyes sparkling warmly at Joan, "Yes?"

"Hi, uh... I'm told you have a patient here by the name of Gavin Price? I was just wondering what room he's in." Almost ashamed to admit, yet needing to make it clear that she wasn't a family member, "He's my high school VP and I heard what happened and decided to visit him..."

"How thoughtful of you!" The receptionist beamed. She turned towards the computer, "Okay, he's in room four-oh-seven. That's on the fourth floor, room seven."

Joan returned the smile, "Thank you." She started heading towards the elevator when the receptionist called out to her.

"Just to let you know; visiting hours, with the exception of immediate family members, end at eight o'clock in the evenings. On the weekends, it's nine."

She turned to face the receptionist, giving her a small smile. "Oh, I'm not going to be staying _that_ long..."

"It never hurts to know, Joan." _She_ replied, casting Joan a knowing look. 

The smile on Joan's face fell onto one of disbelief. She rolled her eyes before approaching God. "Y'know, one day I'm actually going to use that innovation of yours called _free-will_."

God, in the form of the receptionist, gave a nod of her head and a glance towards something behind Joan. "The hospital has a gift shop."

Not bothering to glance in that direction, "So?"

"You know what they sell in there, don't you?" God gave Joan this pointed look.

Joan finally glanced at the shop and back towards God, exasperated. "You actually expect me to buy Price something?" She crossed her arms, "Visiting him is one thing, but getting him a gift?"

"I'm not asking you to buy him a dozen red roses. A get-well card would be nice for a start. It's common courtesy, Joan. You should know better."

God watched as Joan bit her lower lip with a frustrated sigh. She glanced down, eyes closed, then looked back up with a tight smile. "Fine!" Before heading towards the gift shop, she pointed an accusing finger at God. "But one day, I _am_ putting my foot down at one of your suggestions."

Joan stalked on over to the gift shop, an act which God watched with amusement. A moment later, Joan emerged holding up a small white card with a floral design on the front. She waved it at God as she walked on over to the opening elevator doors. 

"There you go! But just to let you know... It's _not_ a Hallmark card. Gotta draw the line somewhere..."

JoA~~JoA

She raised her fist, about to knock on his door, which was slightly opened, when Joan realized with a startling thought _"How am I going to explain my visit to him? I'm not exactly one of his favorite students..."_

Joan pulled back her hand, wracking her brain for possible excuses that didn't make her come off looking like a complete... loon? Ha! Not that Price hasn't been privy to one of her _moods_. But still... this was just another one he could add to his "Crazy Things I've witnessed Joan Giradi Do" list. A list that he could testify to have Joan committed!

She took a couple of steps back, contemplating her next move. Finally with a soft frustrated groan, _"God! What am I doing? If I can't even come up with a stupid excuse to visit Price, how the hell am I supposed to explain the visit to everyone else? Especially mom... Grace, yeah I'm _so_ looking forward to her reaction... Adam..." _Joan flinched at the thought of seeing Adam giving her that same look of disbelief he had given Grace earlier.

"But then again..." Joan thought out loud. The thought of what could happen if Joan _didn't _do what God asked very well frightened her. Especially if she considered what had _almost _happened if she hadn't asked Steve Ramsey to the dance a few months back. With that newfound thought in mind, Joan decided to once again bite the bullet... so to speak.

Holding her breath, she gave two knocks on his door before peeking her head in. Joan had somewhat prayed that he would be asleep, thus only delaying the inevitable, however...

"Miss Giradi? What are you doing here?"

JoA~~JoA~~JoA


	4. Chapter Three: Not so Misery of a Good T...

_A/N: Much mahalos and thank yous for all the reviews! It's slowly getting there! I've got more chapters already on the back burner but for now I'm presenting a little at a time. Patience is a virtue... sometimes. LOL Anyway, the character of Price, just to let you know, I've come to actually **care** about and have come to believe that he's not that big of a jerk. Thus why his character in my story just shows another side to him which I'm hoping will be revealed as the show progresses. At least I hope... eh, there's always fanfiction *grins* Enjoy! _

**Chapter Three: Not So Misery of a Good Time**

Joan stood at the doorway, half frozen half urging herself to say something. She regarded the man on the hospital bed in disbelief. For a mere moment, she didn't see him as the tall intimidating jerk of a Vice Principal she, and nearly majority of the student body, had come to avoid, fear, and loathe. Instead, she was actually seeing this human being, practically laying there in his hospital gown, surprised and defenseless.

It wasn't until he said her name did Joan remember that despite everything else, that _man_ was still Mr. Gavin Price. She blinked her eyes, then gave way to a soft, hesitant smile. Very slowly, she made her way inside as he began sitting up. She watched him try to sit up, resisting the urge to wince right along with him. It was obvious that it was taking a lot of strength on his part to look healthy and not weak with pain in front of his student.

"Hi, Mr. Price." She could feel a pathetic excuse about to escape her lips. It was feeble, but what else could she tell him without coming off too crazy? "I'm sorry that you're in here. Hospitals really suck... unless you're a doctor, in which case you're _paid_ to be in here, but..."

Price gave her a weary grin, "You're on the verge of babbling, Miss Giradi. Just get to the point as to why you're here and then you can leave."

Joan stopped with a start. There he is... the man they all love to hate. You could take the ass from the school, but the man still remained an ass. Resisting the urge to snap at him, Joan instead opted to give him a half glare. 

Starting off with a mere scoff of a laugh, "Y'know, I had a feeling that this was a bad idea in the first place. I figured, why not visit Mr. Price because despite everything, even he doesn't deserve to be hospitalized. I guess you could say that I felt somewhat bad for you... I mean, look," She held up the card, which was now in its envelope. "I even bought you a card."

He slowly began regarding her with a look that Joan didn't recognize. Especially as she continued on her little rant. Price softly watched as she glanced around his hospital room, taking in the floral arrangements.

"Not that this puny card would matter though, right? God, what did you do? Decide to grow a garden in here?"

It was then that Joan got the biggest surprise of the day... He started laughing. Mr. Price was actually laughing. And the weirdest thing about it, Joan discovered, was that it wasn't that bad of a laugh. If she didn't consider the ick Vice Principal factor, Joan would've considered it to be kind of... _cute_.

Despite herself, Joan gave a quiet chuckle and a small smile appeared on her lips.

"I'm afraid," Price began, still laughing, "That this is one of those moments where I'm glad I don't have an allergic bone in my body." He did a once over of the room, and with a smile on his face as he turned to Joan, "It is a bit too much, isn't it?"

"You think?" She replied, still holding the card, but a bit more relaxed than when she first entered his room. Before she realized what she was saying, Joan added, "Y'know, for a man that's not too well-liked at school, these flowers could prove otherwise..."

Joan stopped short, stunned at her words and what they were insinuating. "I mean..."

However, again surprising her, Price held up his hand. "It's okay, Joan. I know that my _popularity_ at school isn't that high up in the charts as say someone like your mother. I'm well aware of how the students view me."

Joan looked down, fully knowing that she was one of those students. Price kept his eyes on her, taking note of her guilty silence. A sympathetic smile appeared on his face as he held his hand out to her, "May I see the card, Joan?"

"Oh!" She looked at the card, then at his hands. Walking closer to him, she handed it over to Price. "Of course, I mean the card is for you anyway." Joan's eyes fell on the floral bouquet on the stand next to his bed. She beamed softly at the flowers, especially as she recognized the name on the small card tucked within them. "These are beautiful. Did Mr. Chadwick pick them out himself or his wife? If he did, he certainly has good taste..." 

Price looked up from the card and onto the white lilies. Joan noticed that while he looked at them with a smile, there was something sad about it. Not meeting her gaze, he said, "I have no idea.... the delivery boy wouldn't tell me." He regarded the rest of the flowers as he added, "Just like he wouldn't tell me much when he delivered the rest."

"Oh..." Joan spoke, realizing the meaning behind his words. That while Mr. Price had people that cared about his well-being (for the flowers proved that much), they didn't seem to care enough to bring it to him personally... so what does this visit say about her?

"I'm afraid, Miss Giradi, that you're the first person to actually hand deliver your little gift." He gave her a rueful grin before turning to read her card out loud. An act that Joan slightly winced because she knew that the inscription inside was a rush job. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she got it last minute at the gift shop downstairs, picked out a blank card and scribbled something really generic.

However, the tone in his voice as he read it didn't sound like he was mocking her. There was something else... "_Mr. Price, I'm sorry to hear about your accident. It sucks to be in the hospital, but I hope you get better soon. School is honestly different without you. Take care. Joan Giradi._"

Before she could let him say anything against what she wrote, "Okay, I know that I'm not some great literary writer, but please keep in mind that it's the thought that counts!"

Price gave a small chuckle, "Relax, Joan. Despite what you may think of me, I'm not going to put you down or make fun of your card."

Joan blinked, "You're not?"

"Do you want me to?" He stared up at her.

Thrown off by his question, "No... Why? Do you want to?"

"Joan, I already said that I'm not going to. Now, take a seat." He indicated to the chair on the opposite side of his bed. Regarding her, "You're making me nervous with you standing there, fidgeting."

"I'm not fidgeting!" She snapped defensively. He raised an _"Oh really?"_ eyebrow at her, which caused Joan to reconsider.

"Okay... fine... but I'm not nervous. Why would I be nervous around you? Besides the fact that on some occasions at school you intimidate the hell out of me and majority of the student body..." As she spoke, Joan started walking towards the chair next to his bed.

"Joan," Price watched her, slightly amused, slightly annoyed. "Is rambling a common trait in your family? Your mother does that a lot. Unfortunately."

This sounded like a new development to Joan. Maybe because she never allowed her mother a single chance to speak whenever they'd have a conversation. "She does?"

Nodding, "Oh yes. Because of her, I've learned to tune out individual voices."

Now it was Joan's turn, despite at her mother's expense, to laugh. Price smiled and soon began laughing himself.

"You might have to teach me how to do that," Joan joked. "It might come in handy."

"So that you could one day use that method against me?" He returned the banter, "I don't think so, Joan." 

A silence fell upon them, one that wasn't so awkward, yet wasn't exactly peaceful. Joan wondered if she should now leave, considering that she had accomplished what God probably had intended her to do, or...

"_Misery_?" Her eyes had fallen on a book that was in his lap. She recognized the author as Stephen King. "That sounds depressing."

Price placed Joan's card on the side, then picked up his book. "I'm guessing you never read this book?"

"I've seen his movies..." Joan made a feeble reply. "What's the book about?"

He took a pause, then gave a half-smile. "Ironically enough, it's about this famous writer that gets himself injured in a car accident. Then he gets rescued and taken care of by this woman named Annie. She's his number one fan..."

"Wait a minute," Joan interrupted, "Stephen King wrote it, right? Let me guess, this Annie woman goes psycho on the writer, thus the name of the book is called _Misery_?" She gave Price a once-over, "Y'know, in your current state, are you sure you want to be reading that book?" In a hushed voice, "You don't happen to know any nurses over here that were former students of yours that happen to be named _Annie_... do you?... What?"

He stared at her, dumbfounded. He remained giving her this look of disbelief and awe until he finally began shaking with laughter. And despite the pain, he couldn't stop laughing.

"What?" She asked, suddenly finding herself wanting to laugh along with him. "Did I say something?"

Giving her this whole new look, as if seeing another side to this student that had once been nothing more than the unstable, emotional daughter of Helen Giradi, Price chuckled, "Just when I had you pegged... you had to go and surprise me with the gift of laughter."

She shrugged, "Well, I was told that I had a sense of humor..."

"Whatever it is, Joan..." He smiled at her in a way that was nothing short of amazement, "I really appreciate it." Price glanced back at her card. Looking back up at her, his voice sincere, "Thank you. For the card... and for the visit. I'll probably deny this later on once I get back to school, but I'm enjoying your company."

Joan took his words in, nodding. Not just touched, nor just surprised at them... but also at the fact that she was actually having a good time too. What're the odds? Softly, returning his smile, "You're welcome."

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_


	5. Chapter Four: Fun with 3 Letter Words

_A/N: Thank you again for all the reviews! By the way, just to let you know, you come to hate me by the end of this story because of how I'm writing the character of Iris. I've read some wonderful J/A stories and their portrayal of Iris and I know that I'm not the only one writing her this way. That doesn't mean I **like** her... I don't... I just want her off my screen and away from Adam. But for now, I'm just going to play around and make her say and do sensible things... like help bring together Joan and Adam *big grin* Anyway, enough w/ my notes... on with the story!_

**Chapter Four: Fun With 3 Letter Words**

Joan Giradi was prepared for a quiet lunch hour with her brother in the otherwise crowded school cafeteria. It wasn't that she didn't look forward to more time spent with her friends, because she truly enjoyed the company of Grace and Adam... she just had a lot to think about.

Especially considering what had happened yesterday afternoon. Joan wouldn't admit it directly but she actually enjoyed talking with Mr. Price. At least the Price that was stuck in that hospital room and away from school. Whatever that accident had done to him, for he really didn't say much about it and she never really asked, it had somehow changed his whole attitude. Overall, Joan was surprised, and even relieved, to discover that Price was capable of being... well, _human_. 

Though her visit lasted past the ten minutes she had planned, Joan was well aware in order to avoid being discovered, she had to make it home before dinner. Joan left with a quiet understanding between them that this would be a one time only visit. He had sincerely thanked her once more, something that Joan actually wished she could tell the others about. Then again, after they're done mocking her, they still wouldn't believe her! At a quarter to five, she had ended her visit with Price. 

Joan made it home in time for dinner with her family. She had made a weak, yet somewhat believable, excuse that she had spent most of the afternoon with a friend that needed her help. It wasn't exactly a total _lie_... And as long as her mother, who seemed more than preoccupied on dinner, bought the excuse, Joan didn't have anything to worry about. Well, at least for now until Mr. Price returns to school... 

Which was just one of a few minor details about her visit with Price that still seemed to vex her. She could somewhat understand how his co-workers haven't bothered to visit him, but what about his family? He's in the _hospital_ for goodness' sakes! For, what Joan could guess, a long period of time. 

Joan knew that it was pointless to ponder on such things, considering that it was a one time visit. However, she just couldn't let it go and was more than content to reflect on such questions during lunch. 

Until someone showed up to change all that... "So, Joan, did you talk to your father yet?"

Joan, along with Luke, looked up from their food at the arrival of Grace. She sat herself across from Luke on the lunch table, setting down her own brown bagged lunch. While waiting for Joan's answer, she pulled out a ziplock bag filled with grapes. She took one look at Luke and set the grapes a little closer to her, an act which he smiled with quite amusement.

"Talk to dad about what?" He asked, glancing at his sister, who was gently picking on her food with a fork.

"Grace just wants me to dig deep into my Italian nonexistent mafia roots." Joan jammed her fork into the school's meat loaf... at least she _hopes_ that it was meat loaf...

Popping a grape into her mouth, "Well... excuse me if I prefer that the Eye 'sleeps with the fishes' instead of sleeping with--"

"Ah!" Joan tossed her fork aside as her hands automatically jumped to her ears. Luke winced right along with her, though more for her loud reaction than the mental picture she had flinched over.

Rubbing his ear, nodding, "Thank you Grace, for that unnecessary imagery of Adam Rove."

Grace snickered, "Relax, Joan. Sex. It's just one of those three letter words."

"_Just_ a three letter word?" Luke raised an eyebrow at her, a mildly amused smile on his face. He glanced at Joan, who was giving their friend the same disbelieving look.

"Do the math, Science Pimp." Tossing another grape into her mouth. "Like cat. C-A-T, one, two, three letters? Dog. Toy..."

"Boy?" Luke added his own input.

Joan, grinning, played along, "Joy."

Grace watched as the two Giradi siblings began tossing the three letter words around. 

One from Luke, "Sun."

Another from Joan, "Fun."

"Hot."

"Art..." Joan smiled softly.

"Stop!" Grace cried out, holding out her hands. "Both of you are having a little _too_ much fun here..."

Luke smirked at Grace before glancing at Joan, "'Stop' isn't a three letter word."

"He's right." Joan agreed, "But you gotta give her credit. She did mention 'too'. And 'you'."

"Don't forget 'are', Joan."

"Oh yeah, can't forget 'are'."

"And, Joan, you yourself also mentioned the words _her_, _she_, _did_, and _and_."

"Luke, let's _not_ forget the most common three letter word: 'THE'." Joan mocked with an edge of seriousness.

With mock surprise, "_Wow_, Joan... _how_ could we have almost forgotten that word?"

A growl escaped Grace's lips, which only caused the Giradi kids to teeter on the brink of laughter. "If I hear another three letter word--" She began warning them, but was interrupted by...

"Hey."

Grace spun around, her face scrunched up in annoyance. Joan and Luke, however, began collapsing into a laughter fit. All this was completely lost on Adam and Iris, whom had just walked up to their table.

Adam regarded his friends uneasily, especially now as Grace turned and buried her head under her arms. He locked eyes with Joan, who could only offer a shrug and a smile. "Uh... is it okay if we join you guys?"

Wordlessly, Grace, with her head still down, scooted on down to allow Adam to sit next to her, and Iris right next to him.

Deciding to bite the bullet, Iris asked, "What's wrong with Grace?"

"Nothing!" Grace suddenly looked up, her eyes staring down at Luke and Joan. As if daring either of them to say anything, "Nothing's wrong! Right?"

"_Yep_." Grinned Luke.

"_Not_ a _one_..." Joan giggled.

Adam glanced at each of them, even more confused. He finally looked over at Iris, who was just as out of the loop as he was. "Oh... _kay_..."

"So!" Grace clapped her hands together, wanting to change the topic quickly. Meeting eyes with Luke, "Overheard ol' brillohead ranting about dinosaurs before chem class. What's the deal, Giradi? Friedman found a new fetish?"

"It's nothing, Grace. Friedman just got it into his head to start some kind of movie night tradition amongst friends..."

"Friedman's finally tired of spending the nights alone... with his PC?" Joan teased, causing a snicker to escape Grace's lips.

"Something like that. Anyway, he wants to hold a Jurassic Park marathon." The sound of reluctance evident in his voice. He glanced at Joan, "At _our_ house. _So_, I'm going to ask you guys merely for sanity's sake... would you like to join us?"

Adam glanced around the entire table, which still consisted of himself, Iris, Grace, Luke and Joan. Unsure, "Are you inviting _all_ of us?" Which was basically his own subtle way of asking if _Iris_ was also welcomed. He knew that Grace was still having trouble accepting her, but he also knew that Joan seemed to be okay with Iris. And if Jane was okay...

Luke, obviously not sensing what Adam truly meant by his question, gave the other young man a _"Why not?"_ look. Answering him, "Uh... of course. The more people, the merrier."

Grace had finished off the last of her grapes when she asked Luke, "Does the bunny know of your little dino-mania, Giradi?" 

Giving Grace a confused look before realizing who she was talking about. "Bun-- oh! You mean Glynnis? Yeah... she actually insisted on bringing the popcorn."

Grace then turned to Joan, with a raised look, "Are _you_ joining their little festivities? Joan?"

"What?" She replied, startled. For the past minute, Joan had been down, staring at her plate. She had found herself preoccupied on the meat loaf.

"Jane, I'm pretty sure that it's dead now." Adam commented, especially having watched Joan constantly stab at the slab of meat for most of that minute. He gave her an amused smile, which she caught and began to blush.

She wasn't the only one that caught that endearing exchange. Iris, who for most part of the conversation, kept quiet and silently soaked everything and everyone in. Regarding Adam and Joan at that moment, Iris couldn't help but feel a stir of jealousy. Especially realizing that little moments like she had just witnessed were what made everyone believe that Adam and Joan were a couple. 

Joan, embarrassed at having been caught doing something stupid, especially by Adam no less, shook her head and tried to shrug it off. Pushing the plate away, she attempted to focus on the conversation at hand. "Uh, what were you saying, Grace?"

Casting her a knowing smirk, "Movie night? You in with the Science Pimp or what?"

"Oh, she's in." Luke answered for his sister.

"I am?" She replied, caught off guard. "How do you know that I didn't have plans of my own tonight?"

With the exception of Adam and Iris, Joan was met with incredulous looks. Reluctantly, she bowed her head in defeat. "Okay, fine... I'm in. But it still would've been nice if you had asked if I had plans."

Joan picked up her fork, now with intentions to spend the rest of the lunch period building a mash potato volcano. It was trivial, but a much needed distraction from either watching Adam and Iris act all _couple_-like, or watching Luke and Grace banter off each other.

That's when Joan got some much needed _intervention_... 

Her eyes momentarily flickered away from her food and immediately locked eyes with a familiar face. Or familiar _form_ if you will... There was God, leaning against the wall of the cafeteria next to the exit, draped in gothic attire. God gave a small knowing smile, followed by a raise of his pierced eyebrow. Then, without saying a word, turned to leave the area.

Thus Joan realized was her cue to follow him. Or at least to find out what insane project God had in store for her. She jumped out of her seat, startling everyone around her. 

"Jane?" Adam watched her, yet again confused by her behavior.

Quickly gathering her belongings, she picked up her lunch tray and tossed her friends a weary smile. Meekly, "I'll see you guys later, okay? I gotta go."

"Why?" Luke asked, realizing that he's once again asking for a questionable response from her. He was beginning to suspect that there was something in Arcadia's water supply because Joan wasn't _this_ crazy before they moved here.

With a frustrated sigh, because God tended to bring out that side of her, "What do the words 'I gotta go' don't you understand, Einstein?"

An awkward, if not stunned, silence fell upon the group as they watched Joan stalk away to dump her garbage and then race on out the door. Adam, Grace, and Luke then turned to look at one another, while Iris just absorbed it all in. Finally, she broke the silence with, "Joan does this sort of erratic thing often, huh?"

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_


	6. Chapter Five: Putting Her Foot Down Almo...

_A/N: Ah! Thank you so much for the reviews, guys! I know that my chapters are short so I'm trying really really hard to make them as long as I can. I have some inspiration obstacles to bear right now, so the next chapter or two might not be up until Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest. So I thought I'd add one more for the road... you'll probably hate me for how this chapter ends, but like I heard Barbara Hall say in an interview... well, she **likes** cliffhangers. Oops, my bad, did I give it away? Enjoy!_

**Chapter Five: Putting Her Foot Down... _Almost_**

She found Him leaning against her locker. God in the same form that had asked her months ago to ask out Steve "Would've gone on a school shooting spree if Joan hadn't observed" Ramsey to a dance. A part of her prayed that He wasn't going to ask her to fulfill another similar task. She hadn't ordered her bullet-proof vest with a matching bag yet...

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Joan." He smiled at her as she approached Him. With the same knowing look, "No kamikaze missions this time. Just going to ask you a simple little question."

She crossed her arms, a snarky little smile playing on her lips. "Sure... once you answer one of mines: What really came first; the chicken or the egg?"

God gave a half-smile. "That's really funny, Joan. Bet that sense of humor came in handy during your afternoon with Mr. Price."

Joan's eyes widened before quickly scanning the area around them for people. Realizing that the hallways were relatively empty, she hissed softly, "A little louder, please. I don't think the entire student body heard you!"

"Would it really bother you if everyone found out that you had visited Price in the hospital?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

In soft desperation, "Do we _really_ have to talk about this here? In the hallways? Where anyone could hear us?"

God showed no signs of moving. Instead, He crossed his arms patiently, which only aggravated Joan more. "Why does everyone knowing bother you?"

Sighing, "Two reasons. One is social suicide. Everyone in this school would rather swallow that meat _thing_ I just killed in there than voluntarily spend more than five minutes with Price. Can you imagine then what they'd think of me?"

He gave her an amused look. "Joan, I don't have to imagine. I _know_."

"Fine." She snapped, "Then you also _know_ reason number two! Adam and Grace? My _only _two best friends in this stupid school? They'd probably cast some sort of _banishment_ or something if they found out that I spent time with the enemy."

"Adam and Grace are _not_ going to banish you from their lives." He stated matter of factly.

"Adam did once! Remember? Or were you under some kind of rock during the whole art smashing episode?" Joan glared.

"This isn't a television show, Joan. I do remember what happened. However, I know Adam a _bit_ more than you do. And trust me, the words 'Jane' and 'banishment' do not belong in the same sentence as far as he's concerned."

This little "revelation" certainly surprised Joan. A part of her irritation towards God suddenly disappeared. With an anxious smile, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm all about hints, remember? Now, are you ready to answer my simple little question?"

Unable to help herself, Joan sarcastically replied, "I bet that you really kick ass in the game _20 Questions_, huh?"

"Did you have a good time yesterday afternoon with Mr. Price?"

A laugh escaped her lips. "Oh! That's so subtle... _Adam? Eve? Did you take a bite out of that apple when I told you not to?_" This time, she refused to falter under his silent, discerning look.... or at least she _tried. _ Sighing, "You know I did. Okay, I had a nice time talking with him. It wasn't that bad once we got through the initial awkwardness. And I guess I get brownie points for making him laugh, right? So, overall... I'm _kind of glad_ that you 'suggested' I pay him a visit. I mean, I certainly learned that Price isn't so mean _outside of _school."

"So, you otherwise enjoyed yourself?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I did."

God suddenly straightened up. His hands now in his black pants pocket as he beamed softly at Joan. "Good. That probably means you'll no doubt enjoy yourself the next few times."

Before He even had a chance to walk away from her, Joan quickly snatched his elbow just as he was about to turn away. "What?"

_JoA~~JoA_

A few classrooms away from where Joan and God were having their conversation, Friedman and Glynnis entered the scene. They were about to head towards the cafeteria in hopes of finding Luke when they saw her talking to this young gothic looking student.

They watched Joan, apparently having a disagreement with the Goth. Glynnis looked on, worried for Luke's sister, while Friedman just regarded the scene with amusement. "Wow," He started, "Joan just makes the most interesting friends..."

_JoA~~JoA_

Joan, realizing that she was holding God's "elbow" captive, released her hold on him. She mumbled a quick apology before hounding him. "Are you kidding me?"

"I hardly kid around, Joan. Despite my sense of humor."

"One that was probably responsible for Friedman, no doubt. But seriously, are you kidding me? You want me to visit Mr. Price _again_?"

"Not _again_... about as much as you can before he's finally released."

"Why?" This time her voice was more of a whine than of anger.

He raised his eyebrow. "You don't want to?" When Joan crossed her arms and gave him this _"What do you think?"_ look, He sighed. "Okay... you don't have to."

This caught her off guard, especially at how calm God was being. Suspiciously, "Really?"

"How many times have I told you, Joan? I get tired of repeating that I _don't_ make you do things. You do have free-will. You can say 'No'."

Joan scoffed, "Yeah... like I really can say 'no' to you!"

He gave her a small smirk, "It was never a new development."

She slowly regarded him. Unlike before, this time she had gotten this feeling that maybe she could have things go her way. "So... I _don't_ have to go?"

As if answering a simple little question, God nodded, "If you don't want to."

Still unsure, "I can put my foot down?"

"Both feet if you prefer."

Giving him a teasing glare, "And this isn't some sort of reverse psychology thing you're pulling on me, right?"

He replied a tired sigh, "I mean it, Joan. You _can_ say 'no' to me. Other human beings have said far worst than that single two letter word."

Joan felt no amount of guilt at putting up a satisfied smile on her face. Feeling as if a weight has been lifted, "Okay then. _No_, I am _not_ going to do what you're _suggesting_."

God gave a nod of his head and showed no signs of disappointment, or any other emotions with the exception of a respectful smile. "If that's what you want, Joan. I'll see you around."

It was then that Joan suddenly felt this uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. That same feeling where you knew that things seemed _too good _to be true. Instinctively, she was about to stop him when...

"Oh, by the way," God had did a half turn before facing Joan one more time. "Just like you shouldn't be surprised that I'm respecting your free-will... you shouldn't be surprised at Mr. Price's newfound respect towards you the next time he sees you."

She bit back an exclaimed _"I knew it!"_ from exiting her lips. Joan gave him a tight smile and watched as he walked away. Just as God gave the infamous back-handed wave, Joan cried out, "They've got the expression wrong! The best lawyers never did sell their souls to the _devil_, did they?"

_JoA~~JoA_

For the first time in Joan's academic career, she was actually _hoping_ that school would _never end_. She hated _Him_ for that. Once the bell rang, releasing the students out into the open world, Joan had to face her crossroads all on her own. To visit Price or _not _to visit Price, that is the question. This was nothing compared to her wondering _why_ she didn't want to visit him. Why did God have to make her think so much?! Her face scrunched up in annoyance, though not too many people noticed because she had done it along with the rest of the class at the exact same time that their English teacher was assigning homework. Joan would give _anything _ to stay back in school, short of landing herself in detention.

The temptation was so strong that Joan's eyes landed on the fire alarm that was outside in the halls, just a few feet away from the door. From where she was sitting, she had a perfect view and was able to calculate the distance and how soon she'd get caught. She shifted anxiously in her seat and wondered if maybe she should just pull it now, with her English class as her witness. 

As her eyes strayed back towards the alarm, one of the school's Security Guards walked into view. Joan's eyes widened, realizing that it was the same guard that had advised her to join the debate team. In other words, _God_ had picked up on her plans. He raised a questioning eyebrow, which soon turned into a _warning_ glance. She watched as He then gave one final nod, then walked away. 

Joan gave a silent groan, realizing that no matter what decision she made, she will still ultimately face God. More than that, she'd have to face the consequences of her action. That thought especially rang through as she recalled her conversation with God over a chess board many months ago. Joan quietly snorted in disgust, _"Great, I've got God for a conscious."_

The bell rang and Joan had to make a choice...

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_


	7. Chapter Six: Start of the Longest Aftern...

**Chapter Six: Start of the Longest Afternoon**

_A/N: My muse must be vacationing in Europe or something because I've been wracking my brain for the past two days... anyway, this chapter alone was pure **purging**. Purging mostly induced to listening to my Nickelback CD for the past few hours... All the angst and frustration I've felt towards the appearance of Iris and the delaying of J/A getting together will most likely be shown in _this_ chapter. In fact, this has got to be my LONGEST chapter ever. So, yeah, enjoy this one while you can because this is certainly a rare occurrence._

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA _

The final bell had rung and Joan had made a decision. She was going to put her foot down... at least for _today_. God said that she should visit Price again, but the Supreme Vagueness Himself never mentioned the _when_. So she won't visit Mr. Price today... what could happen? He's in the hospital! The safest place anyone could be as far as she was concerned. She'll visit him tomorrow, on their school's waiver day. 

Besides, Joan thought proudly to herself, she wasn't going to put her whole life on hold according to God's schedule. Okay, granted that He had made it clear that time was a man-made invention...

"Not today..." Joan spoke softly to herself as she began placing her books inside her locker. "_I_ actually have plans tonight... as _sad_ as they are. But this sub-defective _has_ plans..." She suddenly stopped. Glancing around at the other students, most of whom thankfully weren't paying attention to her in the slightest, Joan silently scolded herself, _"And I'm **talking** to myself. Thanks a lot, God..."_

She took a step back from her locker to check her bag for anything else she could unload. With her head down, she was completely unprepared-- not to mention close to having a heart attack --as someone stalked up from behind and slammed her locker shut.

"Hey!"

Joan yelped and literally jumped from shock. Her hand automatically placed itself on her chest, nearest to the heart. Realizing who was responsible for nearly sending her into a coronary, "Grace?!"

Grace glared at her. "Where did you run off to during lunch?" Joan opened her mouth, about to reply with one of her flighty excuses, when Grace held up her hand. Shaking her head, "Never mind. Listen up, okay? I'm only going to say this one more time before I actually decide to take matters into my own hands. You ready?"

Joan stared at Grace, stunned and obviously confused. Not wanting to piss her off anymore than she seems to be, "Uh... sure?"

"Kill it, Giradi. Kill it _now_, kill it _fast_, and kill it _permanently_. Y'know what you did to Rove's art? Where you pulled the chair? Well, I want you to do the exact same thing to Rove's _leech_. Do it in a way that the Eye will never see the light of day _again_."

Joan didn't know whether to be afraid of the anger in her voice or the deadly look in her eyes. "Grace, what happened?"

She growled, emphasizing in a way that displays just how much contempt she was feeling, "_It_ happened. _It_ and her _twisted_ assumptions."

Regarding her friend, still confused. "Grace, what happened? What did Iris say or do--"

Getting defensive, "Does it matter, Giradi?"

"Uh, _yeah_..." Joan bit her lip, realizing what that response could otherwise indicate. 

"What? So you're on _her_ side now?" Grace stood up straight, her eyes flashing with disbelief.

She waved her hands defensively, "No! No, no, no!" Joan closed her eyes, sighing, "What I mean is that I don't _understand_ what happened between you and Iris. An-and I-I _think_ that it's _important_ that I know _why_ Iris..." She trailed off and as she glanced at Grace, "Why she needs to be _destroyed_ as you so obviously want me to do... and why _me_ exactly? Why do you want _me_ to be the one to get rid of Squeaky? Why can't you do it?"

Grace rolled her eyes, "Isn't it obvious, Giradi? Basic military strategy; surprising the enemy? She doesn't like me, I don't like her, we don't trust each other _thus_ she's more than ready to counter-attack anything _I_ throw at her. You? You on the other hand... well, she _trusts_ you more than me. She won't see it coming. Plus, you're pretty harmless... Not to mention that Rove ultimately will pick you over Princess Art any day..."

"Harmless? What is that-- and, wait. Princess Art is his girlfriend, Grace. I wouldn't be so sure..." Joan replied with a more sullen attitude than she would have liked.

Grace smirked with a knowing glance, "Yeah, and Jane is _just_ a nickname."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Y'know," Grace sighed, "As much as I would rather discuss the angst induced hormonal train wreck that is you and Rove's 'relationship', we need. To. Focus! Whatever the plan is, it must be painful and it must be executed as swiftly as possible. We need to get rid of She Who Must Not Squeak Again!"

Refraining from laughter, "Okay, Harry Potter, calm down." Her eyes then glanced past Grace and saw Adam exiting the art room with Iris. "Speaking of..."

Grace turned towards where Joan's attention was and a frustrated growl escaped her lips. Turning once more to Joan before quickly leaving the premise, "Make like Bridgette and think of a way to get rid of Ginger before she snaps and eats Sam. You got that, Giradi?"

Joan stared at Grace, more confused than ever. "Grace?! What... who the hell is Bridgette?!" As she watched her friend stalk away, she heard footsteps approach her. Joan bit back another sigh and mentally prepared herself for what could be another awkward moment shared between herself, Adam, and Iris.

"Hey, Jane." Adam spoke, causing Joan to turn and face him... and apparently _only_ him.

"Hey," She replied, a relieved yet surprised grin on her face. Curiosity getting the best of her, "Where's Squea-- I mean, Iris. Where's Iris?"

Taking a quick glance behind him, then facing Joan again, indicating towards the Main Office, "She had to talk to Principal Chadwick about something..." Joan nodded understandingly before Adam continued, his voice hesitant, "Uh, I saw Grace leave. Is she mad?"

Fighting back a laugh, "Oh... understatement of the year, Rove. What happened at lunch after I left? Everything seemed okay..."

Adam made a face, as if recalling a bad memory. He scratched the back of his head, somewhat nervous. His gaze shifted back and forth between the Main Office and Joan, as if contemplating whether he should tell her.

All it took was Joan placing a concerned hand on his arm, causing him look at her for a decision to be made. "It was okay, Jane. Then you left and... it's-- it's like you were this _wall_ that was, like, the only thing that prevented them from ever fighting." He leaned back against the locker, Joan following suit. She nodded, encouraging him to further explain.

"Iris had gotten this idea to make some kind of big get-well card to present to Price. She wanted to know if that was a good idea and was wondering if, y'know, anyone would be interested. That she'll talk to Chadwick and have the whole school participate. And... Jane, y'know Grace... how she has this way of speaking her mind and, like, it's no big deal."

Joan smiled softly, "Yeah, Grace just speaks her mind. That's what's so great about her."

"Unchallenged." Adam returned the smile, grateful in knowing that 'Jane' would understand. "And Grace wasn't being mean or anything..."

"What did she say?"

"She said that it sounded nice. That it was 'a sad waste of trees and ink,' but an otherwise okay idea. And that she hoped Iris doesn't expect her to sign it. But that's just _Grace_, y'know? She _says_ things like that..."

Joan slowly nodded, "Iris didn't take what she said too well?"

He shook his head sadly, "No, she didn't..."

"C'mon, Adam, we've heard Grace spout off much worst." Joan chuckled, causing him to laugh softly despite himself.

Adam placed his hands into his jacket pockets, "Yeah... _we_ have, but _Iris_... she's not used to Grace like we are, Jane. Iris is... well, she's... _sensitive_. If you knew about her past--"

"I know about her dad, Adam." She replied sadly, giving him an understanding smile. 

He nodded, more than relieved that he decided to talk to Joan about the Grace-Iris situation. "Iris had gotten defensive and said that she didn't expect Grace to sign either. Then Grace asked what that was supposed to mean... then Iris threw back with the whole 'Wizard of Oz' reference she made earlier and..." Adam closed his eyes, intentionally banging his head against the locker. 

Joan regarded him, worried as she lightly touched his arm, her eyes begging him to stop hurting himself. "Adam, no. Don't-- don't do that..."

The conflicted and tortured look in his eyes had caught Joan's breath. "It didn't end with a shouting match or anything, but the way they were looking at each other... Jane, if Luke and I weren't right there..."

"Hey," Joan reached out, taking his hand into hers. She sighed before her eyes locked onto his, "If it'll make you feel any better, I'll talk to Grace. Make her see that Iris is... _sensitive_ to certain things and that she should be a bit more... _considerate_ of her. For your sake. And you? You go and work on Iris and try to have her understand that this is how Grace is. She's..." She smiled as she recalled what God had told her a few weeks back, "She has this whole _new_ and _different_ way of seeing the world. That's why she's Grace Polk. That's why she's your best friend and that Iris needs to understand that."

Adam stared at her, an awe-inspired smile on his face and in his eyes. "Wow, Jane..." Though there was a hint of relief in his voice, gone was the uncertainty and was replaced with a tinge of sadness, "So, you're _really_ okay now with me and Iris?"

Her eyes blinked, surprised by the sudden change of topic. Realizing that she was still holding Adam's hand, she released it and crossed her arms protectively, "Adam... I told you, I am. Why?" She glanced down at the floor, a new thought coming to her mind, though hesitant to ask, "Do you _not_ want me to be okay?"

He crossed his own arms, carefully regarding his words as he began shuffling his feet, "I don't know... maybe, maybe what I should be really asking is... are _we_ okay? Now that I'm with Iris. I know that I've asked that question before and I know we haven't spent as much time together and, well..."

As their eyes locked, Joan smiled reassuringly, at least confidant of this one certainty, "Adam, after what's been happening lately... we're not _just_ okay... we're _us_. Adam and Jane. Always." Again being comforted by God's words to her, "Our connection can never be broken..."

"Adam and Jane." He spoke softly, smiling at that thought. "Unchallenged."

_JoA~~JoA_

Iris had just exited Principal Chadwick's office. A quiet, proud smile on her face. Despite her _conflicted_ lunch hour, Iris was in a rather good mood. Especially since she had managed to organize this massive art project for the whole school to participate in. Something that not only would earn her the favor of Mrs. Giradi, but also Mr. Price as well. 

Now, she needed to find Adam and maybe make some plans with him tonight. Plans that don't necessarily involve...

"Joan." She spoke with a twinge of jealousy, especially spying her boyfriend right now in deep conversation with her. She watched them for a while, disbelief in her eyes. Iris remembered a few months back how that Giradi girl had wrecked Adam's beautiful artwork. What art student didn't remember that catastrophe? What baffled Iris even more, though she tried not to show it, was how could Adam forgive her and still want her in his life? What made her so special enough for Adam to give her a rather dull nickname like _Jane_?

_JoA~~JoA_

Joan resisted the sudden urge to hug him, and instead decided to end the conversation lightly without it going into awkward territory. "Okay, well, I think we've channeled enough _Dawson's Creek_ to last a month..."

Adam grinned, nodding, though not really understanding, "Okay...?"

"Hey." Joan looked over at the voice, watched as Iris approached them from the Main Office. She had cast Joan an acknowledging smile before joining Adam's side. 

Once again, Joan watched as Iris slid her hand so easily into Adam's. This had cause a tight knot in her stomach, but she feigned a smile, "Hi, Iris." 

"Hi, Joan." She turned to Adam, planting a kiss on his cheek, "Thanks for waiting, A."

Joan had to look down, not knowing what to cringe at most; Iris giving Adam a kiss or Iris calling Adam "A". While her eyes were averted, she hadn't noticed Adam himself give a slight wince at the nickname. Not that he doesn't _hate_ Iris's pet name for him. It was more like a cool cliché that was getting old pretty quickly. Somehow, it didn't exactly have the same appeal like... He glanced at Joan, softly smiling at the thought of his own nickname for her.

"So!" Joan straightened up, "I guess I'll see you guys later? Tonight? That is if you guys _want_ to attend Friedman's little Barney festival..." She trailed off, realizing and questioning which part of the night she was looking most forwards to; spending non school hours with _Friedman_ or enduring watching Iris and Adam all couple-like. That thought alone was beginning to make her reconsider visiting Price.

Before Adam could reply, Iris asked, "Will Grace be there?"

The question caught Joan, as well as Adam, off guard. Before even _Joan_ could reply, Adam glanced down at his girlfriend. "Does it matter, yo?"

Joan bit her lip, holding back a proud cheer. She stood aside, watching the conversation unfold.

Now it was Iris's turn to be surprised, "A, c'mon. She doesn't like me..."

"How do you know? She doesn't know you just yet." Adam took a step back, stunned by his own defensive manner.

"I just know, okay?" Apparently not the only one surprised by his shift in behavior, Iris stepped back as well. Crossing her arms, "And I don't want to spend an entire evening with someone that looks ready to... I don't know, cut my throat? Or were you not there during lunch?"

"Y'know I was there, Iris."

"Right. So you _know _how rude and unnecessary her comments were. I don't know what she has a problem with more; my idea, me, or the fact that it involves Mr. Price."

"But... Iris, that's just _Grace_. If she has a problem with _anything_, she'll speak up about it."

"Uh... maybe I should..." Joan began, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. Watching Adam and Iris all _lovey-dovey_ was one thing, but seeing the sudden cool tension between them was just freaking Joan out. She indicated towards the exit behind her, "Yeah, I'll just be..."

Adam looked over at Joan, slight desperation in his eyes, "No, Jane, just wait..."

"I don't believe this..." Iris stared at him, shocked and even a bit hurt. She closed her eyes as she sighed. When she finally opened them, she glanced over at Joan. "Y'know, he's right, you should stay." Then, turning towards Adam, giving him a cold stare, "_I'll_ go. God forbid you should ever let _Jane _go." 

As Iris walked away, refusing to look back, Adam and Joan just silently watched her. Joan bit her lip, waiting for Adam to give her his same helpless look and follow after his girlfriend. Much to her surprise, he remained by her side and didn't seem to be following Iris anytime soon.

"What just happened?" He was the first one to speak.

With a helpless shrug, "I... I think you had your first fight as a _couple_?"

Adam looked on, "Oh."

"Are-- aren't you going to go after her?" Joan asked despite herself. 

He turned towards her, confused. Out of all the responses he could have given her, _"Should I?" _especially comes to mind, Joan was not expecting him to ask, "Do you want me to?"

Joan didn't know how to reply to that. What should she tell him? She can't tell him "No," because if all pretenses were dropped, it would mean that she wanted him as more than a friend when she still wasn't sure herself! However, she can't tell him "Yes" either, because she honestly could not stand seeing him chase after Iris again.

Adam regarded Joan's silence and began taking it to mean that she wasn't sure of the answer herself. He knew her a lot better than anyone could give him credit for. "Jane?" Indicating towards the school's main doors, and holding out the crook of his arm to her. A gesture that not only threw her off, but certainly got a smile out of her. 

"Can I walk you home?"

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_


	8. Chapter 7: Much Ado About Price

**Chapter Seven: Much Ado About Price**

_A/N: Forgive the delay. I've been fighting a nasty cold, fighting a nasty writer's block, fighting to keep sane at work and at home... *sigh* but, anyway..._

_Wow! Huh, maybe I should just purge and listen to Nickelback more often when writing... I can't thank each and everyone of you for your reviews! Y'know, work is good for one thing, I can completely zone out and think up how to make my chapters even better. I had at first mapped out how everything was going to turn out, but I keep on getting newer and even better ideas on how to basically tell this story. Especially now as I've finally figured out a way to keep this story interesting. _

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_

Much of the walk home was spent in content silence. It was something that Joan never knew she could enjoy. Then again, she was spending such quiet contentment with Adam Rove, someone whose company she had sorely missed these past few weeks. Now, walking home with him, hanging on his arm, Joan realized she had never felt so safe... so at peace.. so _normal_. From afar, a total stranger would mistake them for a young couple completely in love. That thought had crossed Joan's mind and she couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Mainly because a part of herself _wanted_ the "young couple" image to be true...

"So," Adam glanced at her, breaking Joan's current train of thought, "What're you doing tomorrow?"

Joan looked over at Adam, then turned her attention towards the ground. With hesitation, "Well... since there's no school, I guess there's no need for me to wake up earlier than any normal adolescent _should_. At least, that's the excuse I'll be giving my mom."

A chuckle escaped his lips as Joan continued, "Other than that, I'll probably avoid doing any of the two C's." He gave her a curious look, which she further explained, "Avoid doing any _chores_ and anything _constructive_."

"Unchallenged."

"What about you?"

"Me?" Adam's eyes met with Joan's before turning away to give it some thought. "Well, I was going to help Iris with this thing for Price... but," A rueful laugh escaped his lips, "I guess the word now is _was_."

As much as it began to pain Joan to say, "Y'know," She slowly moved away from his grasp, allowing a small amount of distance between them. An action that Adam regarded with surprise. "Adam, you can call Iris tonight. Apologize to her or something. I-- I mean, you guys had gotten into a _fight. _You guys technically didn't break up, which means, I suppose, you're still _technically_ a _couple_..."

"Jane," He began, closing his eyes and allowing a weary sigh to escape his lips. Shaking his head, "Can we talk about something else?"

Joan stopped in her steps, grabbed his arm and had him face her. Despite knowing that she was further pushing Adam _away_ from her and _towards_ Iris, Joan couldn't stand him yet again avoiding conflicted issues. "Adam, you have-- you have to _face_ this _thing_ between you and Iris. Fall-out, fight, whatever it is... you have to face it some time. You can't hide from it."

"I know. I-- I just don't _want_ to talk about it, okay?" Adam reached out, grasping Joan's hand. "Can we _please_ talk about something else now?" He gave her a pleading smile, something that she found herself unable to resist. 

"Rove..." An amused, yet somewhat frustrated sigh left her lips, "Fine. Like what?"

Adam, at first, didn't give her an answer. Instead, still holding her hand, they continued on their walk towards Joan's house. Silence passed between them until, Adam asked, "Are you thinking of signing that get-well card for Price?"

Unable to help herself, a secretive grin appeared on her face. A part of her wished to tell Adam about already giving Price a card, but another part wanted it to remain a secret... at least for now. Giving her best nonchalant shrug, "I don't know... I mean, what makes you think after what happened today that Iris would let me sign it?"

"But if you _can_? What would you say?"

"I don't know, Adam." Her response was honest, especially considering that she had said what she had wanted to say to Price the day before. "What about you? Are you thinking of signing it? _Despite_ the whole..."

"I," Adam began, also giving a shrug, "Maybe... I guess, I'll probably write something generic."

She grinned encouragingly, "Well, you could always _draw_ something? I mean, who says you have to _only_ express your feelings through words?"

"Do you think Grace would sign?" He asked thoughtfully, though there was amusement in his eyes.

Joan took a pause before answering, a somewhat confidant smile on her face. "I think she would. I mean, no one expects her to, right? And since Grace tends to avoid what's expected of her..."

"She'll sign it." Adam followed Joan's train of thought.

"If anything, it'll give Grace a great excuse to tick off Mr. Price. She'll probably write something political." 

Adam laughed right along with Joan. He was more than happy to spend this moment with her. A somber thought crossed his mind, especially since he was well aware of the warmth of Joan's hand in his. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, one which she promptly returned though she continued talking. As if it was a natural reaction.

"She'll probably say something along the lines of how he's using up educational funds just for sitting around in a hospital room that doesn't even allow cable..." She teased, bringing another laugh out from Adam's lips.

He stopped for a moment, allowing silence to fall upon them. Finally, "Jane?"

"Hmm?"

"Is-- is it okay? I mean, for us to joke around like this? At Mr. Price's expense? He's in the hospital, Jane and... I know that we're not his biggest fans or anything, but still..."

Joan nodded understandingly, feeling a small wave of guilt. "I know, Adam. But there's nothing we really _can_ do except--"

"Sign that card and hope for the best?" He replied, not exactly satisfied with the answer but unable to think of something better. It was then that another thought came to mind, "Or even visit him, I suppose."

She looked at Adam, surprised, though not for the reason he had assumed. Thinking that it was a bad idea, giving her a slight grin, "Stupid idea, huh? He'll probably kick us out and tell us to mind our own business or something..."

Remembering what God had asked of her, Joan allowed a sigh to escape her lips. Realizing that this talk just might be another hint, as unintentional as it may be, "Y'know, Adam." She turned to face him, a reluctant look in her eyes, "I just remembered that I need to run an errand downtown."

Adam regarded Joan, "Now? Jane, we're at least half a block away from your house."

"I know..." Yet another sigh, "But I need to walk back to that bus stop we had passed a block away. I'm sorry, Adam. It's just that-- it's kinda..."

"Complicated." He finished the sentence for her, especially having heard this talk, her excuse, a million and one times over. Adam removed his hand from Joan's grasp, placing it back into his hoodie. This move didn't surprise Joan entirely for she knew just how frustrated Adam must be feeling.

Sadly, "I'm sorry..." Trying to salvage the moment, "Adam?"

He gave her a curious look, especially as she in return gave him a shy and grateful smile.

"Thank you for the walk home. Can I call you later on? Maybe we can do something tomorrow. If you want to..."

Realizing that this was better than watching her leave with a flighty excuse, "Sure. I'd like that, Jane. You'll call me?" He had asked, hopefully.

"Of course." She nodded, a relieved smile on her face. Taking a quick glance at her watch, "I have to go. I'll talk to you later, Adam."

With that, Adam watched Joan turn and head towards the bus stop. Watching her leave, he had gotten this unexplainable feeling that her "errand" might also have something to do with Jane's "secret." It was something that Adam had slowly noticed that it might be responsible for Joan's behavior. Not just her behavior, but also responsible for her picking up on some challenging hobbies.

Question now is: Why couldn't she trust him with her secret?

_JoA~~JoA_

Joan had half expected to be greeted by God in the form of the receptionist from yesterday's visit. Upon entering the hospital, she couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief to see that God was no where in sight. Maybe it had to do with the fact that she actually showed up. That thought alone annoyed Joan because she could just imagine God smirking, in any of his many forms, at her weak attempt to "put her foot down". She wouldn't have put it pass the Annoying Almighty.

Not taking any chances of running into God, Joan made a brief stop at the gift shop, purchased a yellow Happy Face balloon, and made her way up towards the fourth floor. She could handle God's smirk, but there was no way she was going to listen through another one of God's "you should know better" speeches.

Upon reaching Price's door, which was again half-opened, she raised a hand to knock when she heard his voice. Her first thought was that he actually had a visitor, which gave her cause to smile. However, as she found herself leaning towards the door and silently listening in, Price sounded as if he was having a one sided conversation. 

"Jaime... please... _listen_..."

And not a happy conversation at that. His voice had a mixture of weariness and frustration. The more Joan began to eavesdrop, the more she began to realize that he was on the phone. Having a talk that could very well escalate into a full blown argument.

"Are you letting me talk now?... Look, I'm sure that Doctor Wyatt had called you... yes, I did... why? _Why_?! Jaime, why shouldn't I list you and Andrew as my emergency contacts? You two are the only family I've got! Especially Drew... Yes, Drew, our _son_. _My_ son. Just because we're divorced and you've got full custody of him, doesn't make Andrew any less my son..."

Joan's mouth dropped, refraining from gasping out loud. Mr. Price was married? Wait... make that, Mr. Price was _once _married? Now divorced and with a son? Mr. Price has a son? _The _Gavin Price? She never would have imagined him having a child, much less having a life _outside_ of school. Then again, Joan never imagined herself just "hanging out" with Price. And that actually happened yesterday afternoon.

"Why did I call?... Well, as I'm sure Doctor Wyatt informed you, I'm going into surgery the day after tomorrow... _And_," She heard him draw an exasperated sigh. "Because-- because Jaime, most people that are about to under go surgery would like to be comforted by the thought that there's someone, somewhere, wanting them to come out okay. I just figured that you and Andrew would be my someone's..."

Thoughts and emotions began running through Joan. Could this be why God insisted on her visiting Price? It was becoming clear that Mr. Price needed someone, or at least some kind of support. Listening to this phone call, Joan realized that Price was reaching out to his estranged family... but from his side of the conversation, and the tone of his voice, it looked like his cry for help was falling on deaf ears.

"He doesn't know?... Why didn't you tell him?... Oh." His voice dropped to disappointment, though it seemed like he was trying his best to sound normal. "How is he, Jaime? I know it's been nearly five years, but... Jaime, you know I tried, it's just..." 

His voice now rose angrily into a tone that Joan quickly recognized. "Wait a minute... No!... Jaime, don't do this. Don't you dare place the blame of our marriage falling apart completely on me... I didn't say that!... No! Jaime, you know that I was a hundred and ten percent supportive of your career. Which is more than I can say you were of my own... No, you _knew_ that teaching was important to me, that being there for my students was-- Jaime!... That is _not_ fair. I would never put my students ahead of my family, _especially_ my own _son_... Who was the one that decided to accept that job in New York _without_ discussing it with the other? Not to mention, who was the one fighting like hell to keep full custody instead of joint, thus pushing said son away from his father?... Jaime, I know being a photo journalist for the _New York Times_ is a big deal, but... Jaime? Jaime!"

Joan involuntarily jumped upon hearing him slam the phone receiver down. She heard him release an agonized groan and she began having second thoughts on this visit. As quietly as possible, Joan walked away from the door. Feeling the balloon string still wrapped around her hand, Joan headed back and tied it hastily to the door knob. She had a feeling that once a nurse or an orderly brings the balloon in, he'll know right away that she had stopped by.

Just as she almost made it to the elevator, she recognized a familiar figure at the nurses' station, filling out some forms. She released her own frustrated groan, especially as the familiar red headed nurse sent Joan a relaxed smile. Joan walked towards "her", recalling the time that God, in that nurse form, informed her about the two forms of suicide. It was a lesson that Joan would never forget, especially since it had to do with Adam.

"Okay, you caught me." Joan spoke up, "What now?"

"Did you enjoy that conversation?" Not bothering to look up from the her paperwork, "Would've been a lot more interesting, not to mention a lot more informative, if you had gone to the source instead of eavesdropping."

"Why is it that every request that comes straight out of your mouth sound so simple?" Mocking with a gesture of heavily thinking, "Oh, yes, that's right. Because you don't have to do it!"

God looked up at Joan, casting her a disapproving look. "Joan, you could've asked him about his family."

"First off, that thought never crossed my mind yesterday afternoon. Since you're so 'in tuned' with the universe, I'm sure that you were privy to our conversation. We talked about trivial things. We were _comfortable_ talking about things that had nothing to do with our personal lives because that would be... well, it'd be _weird_ discussing my life outside of school with my _Vice Principal_. Second, I never figured Price as a, y'know, family man."

"You've never once glanced at the picture frame, on his desk, of a man holding a little boy in his arms? Smiling at the camera?"

Joan bit her lower lip, slightly recalling such photograph on Price's office desk. It was kind of hard not to miss when you've been in his office on numerous accounts.

"I honestly never gave it a second thought." She answered truthfully, though once again earning a look of disappointment from God. Sighing, "Okay, I'll try to be more observant, like you said."

"Good." God finally spoke, before returning her attention towards the papers in her hands. Silence had fallen upon them, which caused Joan to stare at God incredulously.

"What? That's it? You don't have anything else to say to me?"

God looked up, showing a look that was as close to genuine confusion as an Omniscient Being was capable of giving. "Like what?"

Still staring at God in shock, "Well... I don't know... don't you want me to do something to help Price out? What about his family? Would you like me to contact them? On his behalf? It's pretty obvious that he needs them. Especially his son!"

Giving her a knowing glance, "Joan, I thought I made it clear what I wanted you to do."

Nodding her head, "Yeah... you wanted me to visit Price as often as possible."

"Good. That means I don't have to repeat myself with you. Y'know, that's getting just as old as me reminding you that I don't _make_ you do anything." Again, God began focusing her attention back on the paperwork.

Joan resisted the urge to reach out and toss the folder right out from God's hands. "That's it?! What about his family? He needs them! You know that!"

God took one final glance up in Joan's direction. Casting her a secretive smile, "I also know that 'family' comes in many forms. Not just those people that are related by blood. Often or not, your family are basically the people that care about you, that are just there for you, no matter what. They're just _there_. They're just _present_. Willing to be a part of your life, at any price..."

Before walking away, God gave Joan a comforting smile. Joan watched God for a while, taking in God's words to her. Suddenly, another thought crossed her mind, which caused her to run after God.

Catching up to "the nurse", "Hey, wait!"

God stopped, turning to face Joan with what could only be an expected grin, "Yes?"

"Price," Joan began, briefly catching her breath, "Price, he-- he mentioned surgery. What for? How badly was he injured? What happened to him?"

"Joan," Giving her a look she knew so well, "If you wanted to know, you could've--"

"Yes, yes, I _know_. I could've asked him." Slightly groaning, agitated, "Look, can you at least do me this one favor and answer one of my questions? And it's not even a hard one to give! It's not like I'm asking you the whole universal existence question. Just a fairly simple one."

God crossed her arms, a half smile was on her lips. Regarding Joan for a while before finally, "Gavin Price had taken a bad fall from his home. What had resulted from the fall was the tearing of ligaments on _both_ legs." With an amused smile, "According to Doctor Wyatt, it was a _miracle_ that his leg bones didn't shatter, considering the impact of his fall. Which is why Gavin Price is having that operation the day after tomorrow. And _no_, I will not indulge you with the details of his accident. That is something which I'm sure you'll want to _discuss _with Mr. Price."

Joan had gotten the same sickening feeling she had a long time ago. In the aftermath of Kevin's accident, when the doctors were explaining to her family about Kevin's operation and how he could never walk again.

Unable to help herself, "Mr. Price... will he... is he..."

God reached out to Joan, placing a comforting hand on her arm. With a warm, reassuring smile, "He'll walk, Joan. His injuries were not as serious as Kevin's. In time, he'll walk again."

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_

_A/N: Ha! Yet a somewhat cliffie! I'm still somewhat battling a cold, not to mention that the weather sucks over here so it's basically putting me in a sour mood... I know, excuses excuses... but I do promise this: As cuteboyGod as my witness, I will finish this fanfic! At least by the end of this month! I swear on all of Chris Marquette's cuteness!_


	9. Chapter 8: Jr Det Joan Giradi

_A/N: Thank you for all the kind reviews! I am feeling a lot better now, not completely cured but fairing better than most... It's amazing what insomnia and dealing with a stupid cold could do for one's imagination... Where am I getting this inspiration to write such long chapters? LOL This is really unlike me... Okay, if you've been waiting for me to include the Cuteboy persona... your patience has actually paid off in this chapter! I just couldn't hold him captive in my secret hidden closet any longer. Not to mention that this current Friday is a CBG rerun *giggles* However, I'm slightly warning you right now that you'll probably hate how I'm using him. However, it shall serve a greater purpose! So enjoy!_

**Chapter Eight: Jr. Detective Joan Giradi**

She had been up all night. Up all night wondering and worrying about the last person on earth she could've imagined feeling this way towards: Gavin Price. Joan Giradi wasn't stupid. She had gotten God's implication concerning the "errand" and definition of "family". However, she couldn't help but wonder if there was anything _more_ that she can do. 

It would be much simpler if she approached Price, befriended him, and let him know that he wasn't going to go through this alone... but Joan couldn't let go of the fact that he would be better off with his _real_ family. With his son. She had thought about what it must be like for Mr. Price, placing herself in his shoes, and she became more convinced, if not just protective of him, that he truly needed his son.

If there were any attributes of Will Giradi that Joan herself had acquired, it was his stubbornness, his drive, and more to the point: His investigation skills. It was a trait that Joan never knew she had until she found herself at twelve-thirty in the morning, online, searching for the phone number for the _New York Times_. 

She had a plan. At least the best laid plan that she could come up with given her lack of resources and it being a last minute thing. Joan knew that she couldn't talk to the former Mrs. Gavin Price, for fear of her plea falling on deaf ears. Instead, Joan opted to talk to Andrew Price himself. From there, Andrew could maybe talk to his mother. Joan believed that most kids are usually the best arguers. Plus she was hoping that Andrew had the same drive, like Mr. Price has often showcased, to get what he wants... like father like son.

It was dawning on two in the morning and Joan knew that she was driving herself insane looking up contact numbers. The closest contact information that she could acquire from the internet, off all places with such vast resources, was e-mail addresses. Moments like this often gave Joan the displeasure of wishing that she was computer savvy as, say, _Friedman_.

She had stumbled upon, not to mention by process of elimination, Mr. Price's ex-wife's byline: **_Jaime Dawson_**. There was only one "Jaime" that had a _NY Times_ article bylines... so Joan had hoped that this "Jaime Dawson" was the journalist she was looking for.

That was when another idea dawned on her. "Kevin." Joan whispered, glancing from her opened door towards Kevin's room, which was closed. As quickly as possible, Joan jumped into bed, forcing herself to get a good night's rest. She would need it just to catch up with Kevin at work, the _Arcadia Herald_, and maybe-- just _maybe_-- have him look up the information that she needed. As she closed her eyes, another idea formed in her already half-asleep brain: Kevin had enough resources to find out Jaime Dawson's contact numbers, that _includes_ her home phone number.

_JoA~~JoA_

At nearly fifteen minutes after eleven o'clock in the morning, Joan Giradi slipped out past her brother, Luke, who was busy in the kitchen eating lunch and going over chemistry reports. Earlier that morning, Helen had attempted to wake Joan up before she herself headed to school. She had given up on waking her ever non-morning person daughter after Joan's fourth restless grumble. As she left for work, she wondered what Joan was doing last night... if only she knew...

It was nearly quarter to twelve when Joan entered the _Arcadia Herald_ building. She was tired, she was hungry, but those two factors alone were nothing compared to her current state of determination. It would literally take an act of _God_ to stop her. 

Her eyes scanned the busy news room until they firmly landed on a familiar hunched form typing away on the computer. She stood tall, placed on her most sweetest, innocent smile, and strolled on over to big brother. 

"Hey!"

Kevin Giradi glanced up, startled by the appearance of his baby sister. Confusion shone in his eyes as he regarded her, "Joan?"

She gave him her most charming smile, one which caused Kevin's eyes to slant cautiously at her. "Hey, Kev. You left for work early without me having a chance to say good-bye." Her eyes glanced around the room, feigning awe, "Wow! So this is where the magic happens?"

Obviously not buying into her act, "Joan, I was born three years _before_ your butt graced this planet. Which means that I _wasn't_ born yesterday. What's the deal? Why are you here?"

Not giving up her innocent routine, "Can't a baby sister visit her favorite older brother at his place of business?"

His eyes spoke volumes as they stared down at her, despite the fact that he was looking up. He continued his scrutinizing, holding his gaze, until Joan eventually faltered. Indicating towards the empty chair next to his desk, "Sit."

"Fine." She stubbornly replied, crossing her arms. Once seated, "Y'know, I've always wanted to visit you at work. And when I do, you're making it out like I'm about to commit some kind of crime!"

With raised eyebrows, "Are you?"

"No!" Joan stared, stunned. However, "No. Not... not _really_. I don't think so..."

Kevin pushed back from his desk, crossing his arms and slipping into what Joan could only recognize as his "big brother interrogation" mode. Staring down at her, "Start talking, squirt. Don't make me call in the big guns known as 'mom and dad.'"

Now startled herself, "No! Kevin, you don't need to bring the parental units into this."

"Then start talking, Joan. And avoid the flattery routine, it'll only make it much worst."

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips, "Fine. I just need a small, teeny tiny, macroscopic--"

"Don't you mean _micro_scopic?"

"Huh?"

He shook his head, "Never mind. Go on..."

Joan sighed again, "Kevin, I just need a favor. It's not even something _big_ like, I don't know, getting me backstage passes for any rock concerts... which, by the way, did you know that Pink will actually be gracing Arcadia two months from now--"

"Joan!" Kevin more than gladly interrupted her. "Get. To. The point."

"I need to know the home phone number for a journalist by the name of Jaime Dawson."

He gave her a confused look, "Excuse me?"

Biting her lower lip before explaining, "Jaime Dawson. She's a photojournalist for the _New York Times_ and I need to contact her. I need to find out her phone number, like, right away. And when I mean 'right away', I mean, like, _today_."

"Why?"

"Do I need a reason?" She asked him meekly.

"Well, if it's going to possibly result in some kind of, say, _lawsuit_, that could otherwise get me fired or, worst, in jail..."

"Since when did it become a crime to want to track down and talk to a highly regarded journalist for the _Times_?"

"Here's the thing, Joan, there's this creepy little activity called 'stalking'... you might want to look into its definition."

Joan opened her mouth, about to defend herself when Kevin's boss, Rebecca Askew, approached them. "Hey, what's going on here?" She smiled at Joan, who gave a timid 'hello' wave.

"Oh, Rebecca, you remember my sister, Joan, right?"

"Yes, of course. How're you doing, Joan? Came to check out your brother's workplace?"

Kevin gave a mischievous grin Joan's way, "Yeah, she came to, uh, what did you call it, Joan? To check out 'where the magic happens'?"

Joan glared, which Rebecca caught and bit her lip to refrain from laughing. Obviously she had stumbled upon the two Giradi siblings having a not too amicable conversation. "Really?"

"Rebecca," Joan sat up, deciding to take a chance and realizing that she wouldn't get the help she needed from Kevin. "Actually, I'm here because I need help in the research department." Casting a glare at her brother, "And since my oh so helpful big brother would rather mock me than help out, maybe you could. Help me out, that is."

Rebecca leaned back on Kevin's desk, crossing her arms, "Sure, Joan. I'll certainly try, though your brother's initial job over here is that of fact checker. Researching should have become a forte' of his."

"Joan," Kevin's stared at her, both his voice and gaze filled with warning, "I don't think you should be asking--"

Ignoring him, "Do you happen to know a Jaime Dawson? She's a journalist for--"

"The _New York Times_?"

Smiling excitedly, "Yes! That's her."

Rebecca nodded, "Yeah, I know her. Whenever I was invited to attend particular news conferences held in New York, she would be there. She's a really nice person and has this amazing eye for detail in her work."

"Does she have any children?" Joan had to ask, had to be sure that this was the same Jaime that she was searching for.

Kevin wasn't the only one thrown off by her question. "Well... I think so. Um... yes, we actually had lunch together one day and I believe she mentioned that she has a son that was interested in pursuing a similar career. In fact," Rebecca mused, "Joan, I think he's about your age. Maybe older."

Now it was Joan's turn to be surprised. "Really?"

"Joan," Kevin interrupted the conversation. "Why are you so interested in Jaime Dawson?"

Joan glanced from Kevin to Rebecca, debating on whether or not to just tell them the truth. A flighty excuse seemed more reliable when she was hit with a conscious wave in the form of God's question: _"__Would it really bother you if everyone found out that you had visited Price in the hospital?" _She recalled her conversation with him yesterday and once again cursed the fact that He was becoming her Jiminy Cricket.

"Joan?" Rebecca regarded her, concerned.

Finally, deciding to bite the bullet, sighing, "Because... I have a feeling that Jaime Dawson was once married to my high school VP, Mr. Price. And that Jaime's son is Mr. Price's son. Not to sound like some soap plot line, but I wanted to contact his son to let him know that his dad is in the hospital. Mr. Price needs support and-- I don't know! I wanted to help and I figured that he needs their support instead of just his students..." Allowing a groan to escape her lips, "This really does sound like some twisted soap opera! But... basically, I can't give him the kind of comfort that he really needs from his family!"

Rebecca and Kevin exchanged a confused, worried look. Kevin had no idea what to make of Joan's explanation. Rebecca looked over the young woman, giving her a small smile, before standing up and heading towards her office. She promptly returned, holding an rolodex card to Joan. "Here you go, Joan. This is Jaime Dawson's cell phone number and e-mail address. There's also her home address if it'll help you much."

She gave Rebecca a grateful smile as she took hold of the card, "Thank you. May I use your copier machine?"

"Sure." Rebecca nodded. As Joan walked away, she called out to her, "Joan?"

"Yeah?"

Giving the young woman a comforting, admirable smile, "I think that in your own way, you _are_ giving him the support that he needs."

Joan beamed up at Rebecca, "Thank you." To Kevin, "I like her. She's a keeper."

Kevin glared at Joan, though a blush began to rise on his cheeks. He glanced over at Rebecca, who placed a hand over her mouth to refrain from laughing. Timidly, "She talks a lot yet doesn't know what she's saying herself half the time..."

"I heard that!" 

_JoA~~JoA_

Joan exited the newspaper building, anxious to call up the New York operators and ask for the number that goes with Jaime Dawson's address. For a brief moment, she grinned proudly at how smoothly her plan was playing out... which is why she wasn't too surprised when she ran into God again.

In a voice, with a form, that she knew only _too_ well, "If you had placed merely half of your current state of determination towards your school work, you wouldn't be an average C-plus student, Joan."

She turned around and an exasperated sigh escaped her lips. Placing her hands on her hips as she glared at God, in the familiar form of the handsome young man in the same corduroy jacket, "What's with the multiple apearances in less than a week? You hardly talk to me for how many weeks and now... Why am I not surprised that you'd try to stop me?"

He had been leaning against the side of the building, as if waiting for Joan's exit. Casting her with an all too familiar smirk, "I don't intervene in human affairs. That would be taking away your free-will. And we all know how much humanity thrives on it."

Unable to resist taunting him, she held up the photocopy of Jaime Dawson's address. "Well, then this is me _thriving_ on your beloved innovation."

God nodded in agreement. "If that's what you want." He walked towards her, indicating northbound. "If not, take a walk with me."

She shook her head, indicating towards the nearest phone booth that was not only in the opposite direction, but was on the other side of the road. "Can't. I have to make a phone call, remember?"

"I know." Still indicating north, "Did'ja know that the hospital is in that direction, Joan? I suggest--"

At the mere mention of the word 'suggest', Joan inwardly groaned, "Y'know, you're right. I do feel a lot safer being pissed at you while you look like _this_. God, I know all your suggestions! But can I make one of my own right now?" Realizing that He was going to calmly, as usual, regard her frustrations, "I _suggest_ you let me carry my plan out. And if it turns out to be a big fat mistake, like you probably already saw coming, then at least I can sleep knowing that I made it on my own. But the thing is, I know it's going to work out okay!"

"Are you positive that it will?"

Angrily, "Yes! Because no matter what you say, we both know that Price is a lot better off with his son by his bedside than _me_. And it's possible for that to actually happen! All it'll take is one. Phone. Call." As if making a point, she turned and headed across the street.

Part of her had hoped that the Being That Was All About Hints would actually _take_ a _hint_ Himself, but realized that it was a fruitless gesture once God followed her across the road.

"You're not going to stop me." She stated with more resolution than ever.

God jogged up to catch up with her, falling in step with her strides. "You're right. I'm not going to, Joan."

"Good."

"I just had hoped you'd have a little more faith in me. In knowing that things will work out. Haven't I made it clear before that though you might not see the whole picture at first, that the end result will benefit you and everyone else around."

This had caused Joan to stop in mid-step just a few feet away from the telephone booth. They stood, facing each other, in front of an internet cafe. Not knowing whether to be annoyed or just plain tired, "Do you always have to do that? You don't come right out and intervene, yet you just say these _things _that otherwise leaves me no choice but to listen to you!"

"Joan, you don't have to listen to me. You don't even have to do what I ask."

"No, but you actually expect me to have faith in you? To trust you?"

"Joan? Question..."

Scoffing, "One of many, I suppose."

Casting her a smirk before continuing, "Your parents. Do you listen to them _all the time_? Do you do every thing that they ask of you?"

"Why do you ask me questions that you know the answers to?" She sighed, "I do listen to them, and I do what they ask..." Somewhat sheepishly, "But not _all_ the time."

"Do you trust them? Do you have faith in them?"

As if answering a stupid question, "Yes."

God raised an eyebrow, giving her a knowing look. He continued to stare at her the same unwavering gaze that Kevin had given earlier until she finally faltered.

"Okay!" Casting him a weary glare, "You made your point!"

_JoA~~JoA_

Unknown to Joan, right across the street from where they were standing, was an arts and craft store. A young couple began exiting from the store, just as God was making His point.

Adam Rove wasn't exactly in the best mood. He had waited up all night, waiting for that one phone call that wasn't exactly _promised_, but still meant more to him in receiving. The worst thing about waiting for Joan's call was all the conflicted emotions he was beginning to feel. Adam began to doubt that Jane would call, then began to feel guilty in doubting her, eventually he started to worry about her, then started to question her and their "relationship" to the point of him becoming angered and vexed... until final it came to a climatic head as with a mixture of guilt for his anger and confusion in wondering why she didn't call. He hadn't felt this much feuding emotions since... well, since Joan Giradi smashed his art all those months back.

If Iris hadn't called him that morning, Adam would've been stuck at home _still_ waiting for that phone call.

Iris had called for two reasons; one was to apologize for yesterday, and another to ask him if he still wanted to go "art supply shopping" with her, and maybe grab a bite to eat at the internet cafe that was across the street from the arts and craft store. She had explained to him that she was being an "insecure Joey Potter" yesterday, especially towards Joan. Adam didn't exactly get what she meant by that, especially that "Joey Potter" reference, but Iris basically apologized for her behavior. He had a feeling that the whole Grace issue was still unresolved, but since he was too upset at Joan, he knew he couldn't stay upset at Iris either. Adam accepted her apology and agreed to meet Iris at her house.

He was still troubled over Joan not calling him, but that couldn't stop him from being the type of boyfriend Iris needed him to be. So, using the same avoidance tactic that he pulled yesterday, he pushed all thoughts of Joan into the back of his mind and tried to enjoy the day with Iris. The word being _tried_.

As they exited the craft store, Iris was the first to notice...

"Is that Joan?"

Adam's attention snapped into focus, a reflex he often cursed for having. "What?"

"Right there, A. Across the street?" She kept her eyes on Joan, curiosity overcoming her as she also asked, "Who's the guy she's talking to?"

He regarded Joan and "the other guy" with sickening dread and anger. Just like his unnerving attention towards anything related to Joan Giradi, he also cursed his eidetic memory. Adam remembered seeing that other guy before... because he had caught Joan dancing with him at her house party weeks past. It was a memory he tried to erase as feverishly as the memory of her shattering his art.

Now he was watching them, yet again. A part of him wouldn't be worrying too much, especially considering their interaction and Joan's own behavior. If anything, Joan looked like she was having an argument with him and was regarding him with complete annoyance. However...

"Total B&B."

"Huh?"

Glancing up at Adam, "Benedick and Beatrice. From the play 'Much Ado About Nothing'? Two people so attracted to, so crazy about, one another that they mask it behind contempt and bickering?" Iris gave a soft knowing smirk, "Joan and whoever that guy is... complete and total B&B."

Adam turned from Iris to look back upon Joan, now giving the other guy a weary glare. At the moment, Adam actually wished he was back at home, waiting for that phone call that was never going to be made.

_JoA~~JoA_

"Now what?" Joan asked, glaring at him as she began crossing her arms. She was still completely unaware of her audience right across the street. "What do you want me to do?"

"It's your choice, Joan. You already know what I've asked of you."

"Yeah, well, you've actually _asked_ a lot of me these past few months that I kind of lost count." She dropped her scowl and opted for a simper.

God chuckled, "And you wonder why sarcasm seems to be a natural part of our conversation."

Joan glanced down at the paper in her hand. "Seriously, what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to be able to wake up in the morning, knowing that you can not only trust me, but trust _yourself_." He gave her a sincere, patient smile. "If you feel like your plan will turn out for the best, then I can't stop you."

Not as certain as before, "It will work out... won't it?"

"Ask yourself this, Joan; if you completely believe that this one phone call will change things for the better... why are you allowing yourself to let me talk you out of it? I know you, Joan. You're capable of being completely driven to the point that you'd let nothing stand in your way. You had gotten that trait from your father." He had reached into his jeans back pocket, revealing small change. With his palm out, "You can make the phone call.. _or_," With a sly grin, "Or, keep the change for a rainy day."

Joan gave him a once over, finding herself unable to resist his offer. As she pocketed the change, she gave him a small smile.

There was mischief in his eyes, as if reading her thoughts, "You're extremely relieved that I'm not a real boy, huh?"

A laugh escaped her lips as she began walking south, towards the hospital. God kept up with her as she replied, "Yeah, then I'd really be in trouble. I'm just content with you being Jiminy Cricket instead of Pinocchio."

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_


	10. Chapter 9: Evening Before

_A/N: Who says you have to be completely healthy and sane of mind to create? I mean, look at GOD... (*cough*) _

_Anyway, hello! Hi! Long time no see, huh? LOL Sorry for taking so long to update... but I hope it's worth the wait because I am done! Yes, you heard right: I am FINI! Did I not devotedly swear on Chris Marquette's cuteness that I'd deliver?_

_Like, these are the last chapters so I hope you enjoy them and I hope you had enjoyed this story. Just going to make a very brief note of a few things before I can allow you to sit back and really enjoy this story with as minimul distraction as possible:_

_By now you'll notice a few things. One, that I've probably dropped various hints as to what might happen. With that in mind, anything can and might/will happen. You may overanalyze, you may even guess, and yes you may assume... but don't think for one minute that it's going to turn out the way you think... Or will it?... Or won't it..._

_Another thing is you've noticed how often God is showing up. That's simple; I love writing God's dialogue. It's fun! I enjoy the God/Joan banter... who wouldn't?_

_I also have to say that you must forgive me and my lack of medical terminology. I have an old medical encyclopedia and mixing it w/ common sense AND whatever I could remember from my ER watching days... whatever medical jargon comes out, that's all I could muster. Sorry if it lacks the believability... which is why I'm not a part of the JoA writing staff. Damnit._

_Well, as you can see, this is the LONGEST note I've written, nearly taking majority of the chapter LOL. And if you've read my entire tirade without batting an eye, then I commend you for putting up with my crap. Usually I view my own A/Ns as one of the only times us writers can actually talk (or bitch & moan as is my case) about ourselves and our writing process. But I digress... Enjoy the show!_

_Mini disclaimer: Don't own no one... except story and any original characters._

**Chapter Nine:** **Evening before...**

The hospital was within sight when Joan had broken the comfortable silence that had fallen between her and God. He was already giving her a sideways glance, patiently waiting for her to speak. 

"It still..."

Without an ounce of protest on her part, Joan had allowed God, still donned in the tan jacket wearing, young man form, to walk her towards the hospital. _Why?_ Joan didn't exactly know, but she was curious as to why He himself kept her company without asking. _Then again,_ Joan had thought, _maybe it's because He knows that I still have my doubts_. 

"It-- this still doesn't feel right."

"What doesn't?"

Joan gave God a _"You know what I'm talking about."_ glare. "Like you don't know. Me being there for Price." Sighing, "I mean, maybe I would feel a lot differently if he _doesn't _have anyone. But he _does_..."

"Joan, no one is truly alone in this world. You humans like to think so, but it's not true. Everyone has at least _someone_."

"Well, Mr. Price's _someone_ is his son! Why don't you do us both a favor and... I don't know, get Andrew and his mom to fly down here? You're _God_! Despite what Grace thinks about my family, you have far better connections than any being on this planet!"

"Hmm... so there _are_ other options."

"What?" Most of the time, which is actually _all_ of the time, Joan could never really follow the words that spill from God's mouth.

Before she could further question Him, God nodded, "I could do that..."

"Really?"

"Yes..." He took a beat before adding, "Except this is _real life_, Joan. Not 'Touched by an Angel'."

Playing easily off of Him, "Yeah, well, some people would argue that this _thing_ between me and you; it's walking a fine line between reality and _fantasy_."

God gave a weary sigh. He had stopped walking, causing Joan to stop as well. Indicating to a phone booth not too far from the hospital parking lot. "Joan, there is still time to make that phone call. You were pretty confident to do so before."

"_Yeah_... **before** you showed up!" Wearily, she added, "You know I'm not going to."

"And why is that?"

"Because..."

"Because...?"

Irritation seeped within her voice as she finally snapped, "Because you're right!" Partly realizing that she was a lot more angry at herself than at the situation. "Because you're right to question me on whether or not I was sure about calling."

Ever so calm, which was a trait Joan _really_ could do without, He asked, "What do you mean, Joan?"

"You're _God_. You-- you _know_ my thoughts... and my doubts. How if I were to call; what if Andrew wants _nothing _to do with his father? Or; what if it's the wrong Jaime that I'm calling, thus making a complete fool of myself _again_? When you asked me if I was sure that this will all work out... a part of myself asked 'What if it won't?'"

He regarded her before replying, "'To err is human.' I'm glad that you're thinking of the consequences for your action, Joan... but also keep in mind that you're not perfect."

They continued their walk, Joan patiently taking His words in as He continued. "You're only human. Mistakes happen. It's what you learn from them that counts. In this case, Joan... maybe a past mistake is the root for your current doubts."

"Oh, and here I thought that _you_ were the root." She smirked, earning herself a bemused grin from God. Sighing, "And that past mistake would be...?" She waved her hand encouragingly.

"Does the phrase 'failure of imagination' ring a bell? Not to mention the events that occurred around that particular expression?"

Joan's face fell, recalling the dreaded 'Thing Made out of Stuff' fiasco. "Adam..."

"All roads lead to Eden." God smiled knowingly, though Joan wasn't at all amused by the inside-joke.

"Or in my case; _hell_." That comment, of course, earned herself another look from God's direction. Still unable to comprehend what God was trying to teach her, "I don't get it. How is what happened with Adam affecting this thing with Price?"

"I don't know, Joan." God shrugged, "Maybe... you thought that smashing Adam's art was the only way to prevent him from dropping out." Staring hard at her now, "And the same could be said of that phone call." Taking an intentional pause before adding, "How's Jiminy doing so far in the guessing department?"

Joan mocked a scoff, "And you claim yourself as omniscient... So, this is basically your ever drawn out, subtle way of telling me that there's more than one way to bring Mr. Price and his son back together?"

God looked past Joan, His eyes settling on the automatic doors of the hospital entrance. With a grin, "Don't forget about visiting hours, Joan. Try to make the most of your time."

"Unbelievable..." Joan shook her head at God as she glanced from the smirk on His "youthful face" towards where His eyes had landed.

His hands were in His jacket pocket as He made a half turn to walk away. Joan had looked down, slightly frustrated... and not expecting Him to speak up, "Oh, Joan?"

Startled, she glanced up, seeing God stop in His steps and turn to face her. Neither of them moved from their spots as God continued, "Tell me, did anything _bad_ happen to you once you told Kevin about Mr. Price?"

Joan crossed her arms, teasing, "Besides having been graced by your Orlando Bloomish, boyishly charming presence?" Realizing that He wasn't going to reply to her sarcasm, "No... no, nothing _bad_ happened... I guess..."

With one satisfied smirk and nod of His head, "Right." From there, God turned and began walking away. 

Joan did not bother to wait for the signal, which was God's back hand wave, to comment out loud, "This 'leaving Joan frustrated' bit? Yeah... not going to get old anytime soon!"

_JoA~~JoA_

Gavin Price had just started the second chapter of the first part of _The Green Mile_ when he heard a soft knock on his half-open door. He glanced over at his watch band, puzzled. Doctor Wyatt was supposed to stop in some time after two in the afternoon. They were going to go over one last time on what he was to expect concerning the operation. According to his watch, it was a little past one o'clock, which begged the question...

"Who is it?"

Joan Giradi slowly poked her head out from behind the door, smiling. "Hi." She gave a tentative wave, before stepping in, "Uh... you up for some company?"

"Joan?" He gazed up at her, surprised. Price stared at her for a couple of seconds before a sincere, delighted smile crept up on his face. "Hi. Come in."

As Joan made her way towards the chair next to his bed, he placed his book aside. Price straightened up, his eyes on her until he spied an object floating a few feet away from them. It honestly took every ounce of his own self control _not_ to laugh. He crossed his arms, watching Joan settle into the chair as he smirked, "You know, dealing with this floral _jungle_ is bad enough, but you had to add insult to injury by presenting me with _that_ thing."

Her eyes followed Price's own gaze, confused until they landed upon the smiling yellow balloon that was tied to his bed post. She instantly recognized her gift, but with a slight playfulness, "Oh! Wow, how'd you-- I mean, who gave that to you?"

"Don't play coy with me, Miss Giradi. Who else would have the nerve to give me such a ridiculous gift? Especially knowing that I'm in a weaken state not to protest."

Anyone else would have been put off by his words, but Joan had detected a hint of amusement in his voice. Playing along, bracing her hands on her knees, "Fine. If you don't want it, I'm sure that I can be able to find a little kid in the children's ward--" She was half-way off her seat when he raised a hand. 

"Stop."

His voice commanding, "Sit." Causing her to give him a raised questioning look, "You're not getting rid of my balloon that easily."

"Y'know, depriving a child from a balloon is just as bad as taking candy from a baby."

"No... technically you didn't buy that thing for a child in the first place." 

Joan glanced at him, teasing, "_Sure_... but how do you know that this wasn't meant for a kid?"

"You know, Miss Giradi," Price chuckled, "I am certainly not going to miss letting you get away with your snarky comments once I get back to school."

"Which is why I'm going to enjoy getting away with it as long as I can."

Price shook his head at her, his grin unwavering. "Okay, seriously, Joan, why are you here?" The sparkle in his eyes turning solemn and curious, "I'm sure that an adolescent like yourself has better things to do than sharing pleasantries with her vice principal."

Downcast, her eyes turned away from him, unsure. Finally, she glanced up, hesitant at first, but feeling that honesty was one of her few options left. "Yesterday, I had wanted to pay you another visit and drop off my, as you put it," Indicating towards the balloon, "_Ridiculous_ gift." 

"Which I thank you for, Joan." He interrupted, his smile genuine.

Her lips twitched into a smile before continuing, " I just wanted to see how-- well, to see how you were doing. But when I approached your room, I..." Her eyes locked onto his, "You were on the phone, and... I didn't mean to eavesdrop or anything, but you sounded upset and I couldn't help myself." Sincerity was in her voice as she added, "I was a little worried."

His gaze hardened into a defensive manner that Joan recognized, especially since she's seen it up close and personal from the likes of Kevin Giradi, Grace Polk, and Adam Rove. So she wasn't at all surprised to hear him speak to her with an _"It's not any of your business"_ tone.

"So..." Price crossed his arms, "You're here because you had gotten some _pity_ notion towards me? That now that you've overheard my whole 'sob tale', I'm just really this sad and pathetic man that has been misunderstood by your generation. A revelation in which you're feeling guilty over and, wanting to ease your conscience no less, felt that you needed to make some kind of amends."

Her jaw slightly dropped as she began feeling her own defensiveness boil at his assumptions. Especially as he continued, "Well, guess what, Miss Giradi, I'm sorry to say that if that is your true intentions, I'd appreciate it very much if you left. And that the next time we set eyes upon each other, it'll be within the confines of the halls of Arcadia High. Since I am your Vice Principal _first_ and _foremost_."

"Figures that also being _human _would be secondary on your list." Joan snapped. 

She stood up, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her leave as she began pacing. "You know, the only thing that you've gotten right in that entire speech is the 'sad and pathetic' part. Is it any wonder at all why you're going through this ordeal _alone_? Or why your ex-wife refuses to tell your own son about your state? Or why students like Grace Polk practically belted out 'Ding Dong the Witch is Dead' upon hearing the news about your accident? Oh, and not just Grace was relieved to hear about your absence... oh no. Even students like my own brother, Luke, who I'm right to say has kissed your M.I.T recommendation signing ass, had breathed a sigh of relief at that news.

"Okay, maybe at first I felt pity for you. After all, you're in the hospital and your only real visitor was a student. And not even a favorite one at that! But now... I don't feel an ounce of pity at. All. If anything, I just feel disgust and anger at _myself_ for going crazy over what might now be a thankless gesture." Joan reached into her pockets, pulling out a piece of folded paper, and holding it out to Price.

He looked at it, just as startled over her rant. Hesitant, "What is it?"

Her voice had calmed down a bit, her anger not as intense. With a scoff, "My own sad and pathetic attempt at doing you a favor. I wanted to help you."

Price took the folded paper, opening it and instantly recognizing not just the name, but the numbers and address. "This is..." He looked up, confused, "Why do you have the contact information of my ex-wife?"

"Because..." Sighing, "Because I wanted to help. I heard your conversation, I heard your voice and... I just thought... what if that was my own father? What if, God forbid, my parents got divorced, then my dad landed in a hospital somewhere and I didn't know anything about it? And that thought just-- it just got to me, okay? I don't think it's fair that you should go through this without your family. Without your son." Joan pointed at the paper with a shrug, "So, from what I've _overheard_, I thought that maybe I could track your ex-wife down, talk to your son, or to Jaime, and convince them otherwise. But you know what? You'll be relieved to know that I couldn't go through with it... I just couldn't."

Without realizing it, Joan's eyes were beginning to glisten. She was vaguely aware of that fact until Price reached over on the side table and handed her a tissue. Taking the kleenex, Joan gave an embarrassed laugh. Price regarded her with his own embarrassed and guilt-ridden eyes. "Joan, sit down." It took most of his strength to move his entire body a bit over to one side of the bed. She was unsure of the gesture, until she saw the silent plea in his eyes.

As she sat down next to him, Price reached behind his pillow and removed his wallet. From within his wallet, he took out a small, slightly tattered picture and handed it to her. Joan guessed right away that the young boy with the sandy blonde hair and goofy little kid smile was Mr. Price's son.

"This is my son, Andrew... This picture was taken a year before Jaime and I had filed for divorce." He began explaining, sadness in his voice. "He was seven when Jaime and I... It, uh... it took nearly a year for it to become official _and_ for the courts to grant my _ex_-wife full custody. Having our marriage destroyed was one thing, Joan, but... Andrew is my son. I wanted to be there for him, but more than anything I wanted him to _know_ that I would be there... 

"And I was." Price smiled, which caused Joan to smile as well. "For five summers, he'd fly in and it would just be the two of us... Back then, I looked forward to June just as much as any student, because that would mean for three months, I would get to spend it with my little boy..." His voice dropped to regret, his own eyes darkening, "On the summer of his twelfth year, his mother flew in earlier than either of us had expected. She had _news_... she, uh... she was getting _married_. And to be honest, Joan... I didn't mind that announcement so much as I had when she continued that-- that _Travis_ wanted to take Jaime and _my son_ to Seattle _next summer_ to spend time with _his_ family...

"After the divorce, Jaime and I had been... _civil_. However, the moment she had just _dropped_ that unexpected _bomb_ on me... it was as if all the raged emotion, the past unresolved issues, and all the words left unsaid between us started pouring out in this one gigantic verbal argument. And the worst part about it was... was the fact that we had argued right in front of Andrew. He had seen the whole thing and neither Jaime nor I could erase _that look_ he had on his face as he watched us... The next morning was the last time I had ever talked to my son. Jaime had refused to send him over for the summer, much less _any_ holidays when he didn't have school... I just lost all contact with him and the thing is, I don't blame him for not wanting to contact me either. Especially after witnessing that train wreck between the two people whom had promised that their 'breaking up' wasn't his fault."

"And it wasn't... ?" Joan needed to hear him say that. Probably just as much as she realized Andrew still wanted to hear it himself.

Price shook his head, "It wasn't! Divorce is never a child's fault, Joan. At least ours wasn't... Jaime and I just grew _apart_ and we knew that no matter how much Drew would benefit from us being together, in all honesty, he'd be just as miserable."

"But _you're_ miserable now. Look, the past is the past, right? However _bad_ the fallout was between you and your ex-wife, I'm sure that Andrew's gotten over it." Joan pointed at the phone next to his bed, "Call him. Talk to him, Mr. Price. It's not too late."

He allowed a rueful laugh to escape his lips, "I wish it was that simple, Joan."

"It is. Just pick up the phone and--"

"No, you don't..." Price began, but trailed off as his eyes began to study Joan. As if contemplating her worth. Mixed emotions played on his face until he shook his head, "Never mind. Just..."

"Mr. Price?"

He stared at her before glancing down, took a breath and as he returned her gaze, "Joan, I'm going into surgery tomorrow... and, I was wondering..."

_JoA~~JoA_

Joan clutched at her jacket while watching the floor numbers within the elevator light up. Glancing at her watch, she inwardly groaned at the time, _5:37 PM_, and realized that she was late for dinner. _Great!_, Joan thought silently with dismay, _Interrogation time with the parental units._

She hadn't expected the visit to last that long. After Price had asked her for a "favor" and then, once they dropped the unease that seemed to accompany that particular request, they began talking about... well, about nothing. Much like the other day's visit, they found themselves talking about topics that had nothing to do with school or with their own personal lives. Doctor Wyatt had showed up exactly at two o'clock, which left Joan some time to make up for the fact that she had skipped breakfast _and_ lunch. Joan had mumbled a soft _"Thanks" _skywards as she used the "rainy day" change that God had given and had got herself a Snickers bar and a soda from the machines. Once Price was through talking with Doctor Wyatt, Joan returned to his room and continued on with their conversation.

Joan wrapped her jacket tighter around her as she contemplated her current situation. She knew that, once more, another day will pass with her having to deal with lying to her friends and her family, yet having it be all for the sake of doing what God wanted of her. She was "fulfilling her nature"... Joan scoffed, "_Yeah_... my nature to become a first class _liar_."

As she descended upon the lobby floor, Joan recalled her promise to Price. Half of herself wished she had declined his request, but another part... well, she couldn't help but feel a bit honored to be asked. Reflecting upon the final minutes of their conversation, Joan snapped at attention once the elevator doors opened.

"Joan?" As soon as she stepped off the elevator, a familiar voice called out to her, causing her eyes to widen in panic. However, as she turned to the voice, she allowed a breath of relief to escape her lips.

Confusion sweeping over her as well, "Kevin? What're you doing here?"

She regarded her older brother as he wheeled himself away from the candy machine, in the corner of the hospital lobby, towards her. He held up a Snickers bar questionably, to which Joan shook her head and asked him again.

"Well," Kevin began, toying around with the unopened candy bar. Nonchalantly, "I felt like eating out tonight and, since Rebecca has to work late, I'd ask my baby sister to join me. What do you say, squirt?"

Her mouth twitched to a half smile, cocking her head to the side, "How'd you know that I'd be here?"

"Mom told me..." He started, though quickly explaining upon seeing the slight look of panic on Joan's face. "Relax, Joan, mom and dad doesn't know about your _Florence Nightingale_ aspirations. What I'm saying is that _mom_ had told me that you weren't home and she was questioning me on your mysterious whereabouts. How Luke can't find you and neither can your friends. _And_," Kevin reached into his jacket pockets, pulling out a cell phone. "Since you, once again, forgot your cell at home... well, mom started to panic. She has yet to summon the hound dog that is dad."

Taking her phone from Kevin, Joan winced as a mental image of her overly concerned mother popped into her head, "I'm dead, aren't I?"

"Once you get home and the parent patrol get their claws on you... yeah." Kevin nodded, though began reassuring his sister with, "But then again, I wouldn't worry. Considering that I'll just tell them that you spent most of the day with me at the paper-- which is technically the truth. I mean, I already explained to mom before I left that you were out running an errand for Rebecca, which is why you're not home yet and why I had gone home to explain to her, in person, why she shouldn't expect the two of us to join the family for dinner."

Joan opened her mouth, closed it, then opened them again as she stared in surprise at Kevin. "You _lied_ to _mom_... for me?"

"I think it's in our Parental Offspring Contract that we're allowed to momentarily get away with lying to our parents... so as long as you stick to that story, Joan, there's a good chance that we'll _both_ live."

"Kevin... I don't know what to say..."

He regarded his sister, who had looked like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. Giving her a warm smile, "I think 'Kevin, I'm starving, let's get some food' is a good way to start."

A giggle escaped her lips as she began walking along side him. "Kevin, I'm starving... let's get some food."

"I thought you'd never ask."

_JoA~~JoA_

Much of the car ride over to a local diner downtown was spent in comfortable silence. At least on Joan's behalf. She had listened patiently while Kevin fluttered on about some of the inane facts that are actually present in the world. If there was anything that Joan learned throughout his tirade, it was that she would avoid a career as a fact-checker.

Now, as they sat in a quaint little booth, waiting patiently for their food, Kevin turned the tables on Joan by prompting her to speak. While his sister was nervously playing with the straw's wrapper, "Joan? What's wrong? Hey..." He reached over, taking grasp of the wrapper, or whatever wasn't left shredded, and removing it from her hands.

A sigh escaped her lips, "I really don't want to talk about it, Kevin..."

He shrugged, then simply replied, "That's fine. Then talk about something else. Anything sounds a lot better than me talking about the five different types of hair products that could be found in Justin Timberlake's dressing room."

Prompting a small laugh, "Kevin, it's..." Sighing once more, she regarded her older brother, debating on whether or not to go the distance and just tell him everything... well, everything _minus_ the whole 'I talk to God, He talks back' thing.

"If it's about your vice principal, then you don't have to say anything, Joan."

"I don't?" She looked him over, caught off guard by his statement.

"I caught every word of your ramble back at the Herald. And, Joan, believe it or not, I really believe that for every one of your weird little-- _choices_, you have a valid reason behind them. At least a good reason for _you_. And that's good enough for me."

"So... even though you don't know _why_ I do the things that I do, you'll accept them?" Joan had no idea what Kevin was really trying to tell her, but had caught enough of his words to grasp some basic concept.

Nodding, "Even help you out with them. I mean, I may go into Big Brother interrogation mode every now and again, but that's just a part of my sibling responsibilities."

"So... you'll just _lie_ to mom and dad about me? About where I've been tonight?"

Kevin shrugged once more, as if it wasn't a big deal, "If you want me to."

"Kev... I don't know what to say..." Joan was stunned to say the least, even a bit guilt-ridden for placing her brother in that position. She began shaking her head, "No. I can't let you cover up for me like that... I mean, _I_ don't even know _why_ I'm lying to them, to mom and dad... even Adam and Grace!"

She looked back up at her brother and an unsettling chill came over her, especially as she recognized that look he was giving her. It was of calm, knowing amusement... it was a look God would cast upon her all too often. "What?" 

"Joan, do you remember how, when you were ten years old, mom and dad bought you a new bike for Christmas?" A soft smirk played upon his lips, "After Luke and I had sent _Beauty_ to the pastures..." 

Her eyes widened, recalling her childhood days. More to the point, an image of her first two wheeler, a pink bicycle with a black pony sticker on the seat, that she aptly named 'Beauty', "Oh my God! Beauty!" She glared softly at Kevin, "You jerks! I can't believe you thought that by attaching firecracker rockets to the tires that it'll send _my bike_ into outer space! What the hell were you guys thinking?"

"Well, we didn't exactly expect for the wheels to have a complete and total meltdown..."

"Y'know," She crossed her arms, casting her a haughty smile, "As I recall, I had made a promise to myself not to ever forgive you two for killing Beauty..."

Kevin chuckled, "Well, you eventually _did_..."

As the memories came rushing back to her, she softly shook her head, "Wow... I can't believe I almost forgot about her."

"Well, as I recall, Joan... giving up on Beauty was the furthest thing on your mind. Even after the damage control Luke and I had caused, even after the fact that mom and dad had bought you a bike that was ten times faster than Beauty, _and_ even after you yourself began enjoying racing with your new bike... you had a hard time letting go of Beauty."

She blinked, trying to remember that part of her childhood, "Really?"

He nodded, "Yeah... you remember that one night, when I had come home late for dinner, and I found you in the garage? Dad had bought you another horse sticker to place on your new bike. I had come home, saw you placing the sticker on your bike... and suddenly you started crying. You told me that you felt as if you were betraying Beauty in some way... like she was easily replaceable, when really, she wasn't. You were angry and you were heartbroken..."

The nostalgia of the past sadness and heart ache overwhelmed Joan, as she quietly soaked this all in as Kevin continued, "Look, I've heard enough from you, from mom and Luke to know that this Price guy is no Mr. Nice Guy. However, today, you seemed to have this different attitude towards him... I mean, you wanted to help the guy out by trying to contact his ex-wife! Not to mention that you've been visiting him outside of school... which probably means that there's something about him that has gotten to you, Joan. You don't spend your free time hanging out with jerks, despite being related to a pair of those." He slightly joked.

"Half-jerks." Joan corrected him, softly laughing.

"Right. I guess the overall point I'm getting at is this; Joan, you must've seen something in him to make you want to help him out. To want to be, like, this _friend_ to him. And _maybe_... you're afraid that once others find out how you now feel about Price, you'll feel like your betraying them somehow... when really, you're not."

Heavy silence fell upon the siblings. Joan softly considered Kevin's words just as the waitress arrived with their orders. As the plates were set in front of them, Kevin broke into an idiotic smile. Giving a nonchalant shrug, "Then again, I could be wrong..."

She watched her big brother with quiet gratitude and amusement. God actually had a point... it disgusted her to realize that, but God actually made a valid point...

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_


	11. Chapter 10: the Calm Before

**Chapter Ten: ...the Calm before...**

Luke Giradi, for the love of Newton, as he began removing his text books from his locker, couldn't get the theme song to _Jurassic Park_ out of his head. This provoked him to further question himself as to why exactly he was friends with Friedman in the first place...

"Hey!"

Luke had, thankfully, took a good step back from his locker, just as Grace Polk stalked up from behind and slammed it shut in front of his face. Startled, "Grace?!"

She regarded him wearily, "You guys really are related..." Grace shook her head, "Never mind, listen up; where is she?"

"Where's _who_?" The first half of the school day was over, much to Luke's relief. He actually enjoyed school, but lately it's been starting to take a toll on him. Most of the time, he disguised it well... plus it helps considering that hardly anyone notices him anyway. Thank God he actually had few distractions in life to sink into...

Grace held her hand up, "This high, kinda flaky, actually shares your genetic coding..."

"Joan?"

"No, Mandy Moore-- yes, Joan! Where is she, Einstein? I need to find her! Got some important _pest_ control issue to discuss over."

Luke blinked, then with a shrug, "Uh... Beats me. She had left home earlier than me, which is quite a shock in itself... I just assumed that Joan decided to walk with you and Adam."

"Well then," Grace began with a matter-of-fact tone. Surprising Luke, she grabbed the strap of his backpack and began dragging him down the halls. "Let's go find disillusioned lover boy, shall we?"

It wasn't hard to find Adam Rove amongst the halls of Arcadia High School. Besides knowing his class schedule, Grace had a feeling that he was somewhere in the crowd gathered around a big banner like display. Not to mention that she instantly recognized **the voice** that was orchestrating the event... "Where there's a squeak, the big cheese ain't too far away." Grace mumbled, while Luke tossed a questioning look her way.

Adam's body was bent over on one side of a stretched out banner, his pen diligently sketching. Iris wasn't too far away from him, walking back and forth along the two tables worth of flattened out paper, surveying the many collected signatures. Grace didn't know whether to be impressed by how successful the turn-out was... or disgusted by the hypocrisy that came with it.

"Hey!"

Adam and Iris looked up at Grace, startled more so by the tone in her voice than of her arrival. 

"Yes?" Iris asked, curious though somewhat weary.

"Not talking to you, Squeakerella." Grace hissed, not in the mood to deal with Iris. To Adam, "Have you seen Joan?"

Off-handed by Grace's words, Iris bit her lip to refrain from fighting back. Instead, she looked on down and pretended to ignore her presence.

Adam gave a distressed glance between his girlfriend and his best friend before shaking his head sadly, "Not today, Grace." At the sudden thought of trouble, "Why?"

"I've been trying to track her down all morning. Even Luke here hasn't seen her since last night."

Iris tried to her best to appear disinterested, but found herself avidly listening in. Meanwhile, exiting from the Main Office, Helen Giradi glanced around the halls until her eyes landed upon her youngest son. Walking towards them, "Luke? There you are."

"Hey, mom..." He gave her a friendly wave, though his smile vanished upon seeing the troubled look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Have you seen your sister?"

Upon hearing her question, Grace, Luke, and Adam shared a surprised look. Catching their exchange, "Okay, guys, where is she?"

Surprised by the accusation in his mother's voice, "What?"

Helen crossed her arms, "I saw that look. Where's Joan? Marlene had informed me that your sister's name had shown up on the absentee list. I tried calling her cell, but she's not answering. I even had a brief chat with Mr. Dreisbach, Joan's history teacher, and he had told me that she didn't show up in class this morning. So where is she? Luke?"

Holding his hands up in defense, "Like I told Grace, beats me. I haven't seen her since last night, remember? Joan left the house earlier than me."

Turning her suspicious gaze upon her daughter's two best friends, starting with... "Grace?"

"Just as equally clueless, Mrs. Giradi." She replied, shaking her head.

"Adam?" Her suspicions turning quickly into concern and fear.

He returned her gaze with a helplessness all its own. "I wish I knew..." Adam softly replied.

Helen cast a questioning glance at Iris, a glimmer of hope within her that was quickly dashed upon Iris's eyes with a downcast reaction. She took a second, trying to calm herself from going into protective, motherly overdrive. "Okay... there's no need to panic, right? Here's what I'm going to do; I'm going to first call Kevin and ask if he knows of Joan's whereabouts. After all, she was entirely with him yesterday without having told anyone. So there's a slim chance that this is a similar case. And if not..." With a quiet fearfulness, "Then I might have to call Will."

"Don't worry, mom. I'm sure that once you call Kevin, he'll probably tell you that Joan's with him or something. I mean, you're right. She was hanging out with him yesterday, so why not now?"

Grace regarded him with disbelief, "On a _school day_? Granted _I'd_ rather be anywhere but here, but even I know that's not going to happen when your mother's a teacher at this juvenile imprisoned establishment."

Her statement seemed to provoke Helen's worry as she turned and hurried down the halls back towards the Main Office. Luke glanced at Grace in disbelief, "Thanks, Grace. I was going for optimism here, considering that was my _mother _we were talking to and discussing the questionable disappearance of her only daughter."

"Hey, don't tell me that you actually believe that your sister would flake out on school just to hang out with big brother at his work place? Better yet, your _brother_ actually _allowing_ Joan to 'hang out' with him at work? I mean, Giradi has picked up on some weird activities..."

"Okay, Joan has done some pretty _unusual_ stuff since we've moved here... _however_, she was with Kevin yesterday. The whole day, and Kevin wouldn't lie to us-- lie to our _parents_-- about it. He has no reason to. So _maybe_, _hopefully_, this time it's the same scenario."

Grace rolled her eyes, still disbelieving him, "Got a question for you, Mr. Probability Major; what're the odds?"

"The whole day?" Iris spoke up, her voice laced with surprise and confusion. She glanced over at Adam, who was purposely playing around with his black pen and avoiding eye contact.

Luke gazed over at Iris, "Yeah. She even stayed late to run an errand for Kevin's boss."

Grace began eyeing Iris and Adam suspiciously. She watched as Adam focused his entire attention to the pen in his hand, while Iris tried to catch his gaze. Iris's own eyes shifted from confusion to unease.

Finally, Adam looked up, noticing the looks he was receiving from both girls. "What?"

Glaring at her best friend, "Don't know, Rove. You tell us."

With sincere confusion, "About...?"

"A..." Iris began, prompting him, "You _know_. B and B?"

"What?" Grace glanced from Iris and Adam. She looked over at Luke, who was just as thrown off. "I'm sorry we don't speak MTV here on planet reality check, but what the hell is 'B and B'? Beavis and Butthead?"

"Iris..." Adam exhaled wearily before turning to Grace, "It's nothing, okay? It's none of our business..."

Annoyed by Grace's attitude and Adam's regard to appear detached, Iris replied, "We saw Joan yesterday around lunch hour... but she wasn't alone. And I don't think the guy she was with was your brother, Luke."

"What're you talking about?" Luke asked, crossing his arms.

"Iris..." Adam placed his hands behind his head, letting out a soft groan of frustration. "It's none of our business..."

Ignoring him, "They were right across the street from this arts and craft store we had just exited. Joan and that guy seemed to be having this... this _disagreement_, I guess. She didn't look too happy at first, but after a while, Joan seemed to have calmed down. Even smiling at him as they started walking away together." Finally acknowledging Adam, "Right, A?"

During Iris's explanation, Adam had sat himself down on the nearest chair, slouched his body over and covered his head with his arms. Upon hearing her calling to him, Adam looked up and shrugged, "Sure... whatever..." A tired sigh escaped his lips, "They were together..."

Luke glanced over at Grace, worried, before turning back to Iris, "Does this _guy_ go to our school?"

Iris shrugged, "Never seen him before..." To Adam, "A?"

"What?" His voice sharp, which startled Iris.

"What is your problem?" Iris replied, her own voice crossed and hurt. This was not lost on Grace, who was silently watching in amusement.

A heavy silence fell between the couple. A tension so thick between them that it became uncomfortably apparent to Luke. Which was why he was grateful that his mother entered the scene when she did.

"Hey, guys." Helen walked up to them with a relieved smile.

"Mom," Luke acknowledged Helen and upon seeing her grin, "I'm guessing that it's good news?"

"Yes it is... though more likely than not, your brother and sister will regret ever being born once your father and I get a hold of them tonight. I called Kevin and he said that he had taken Joan to work with him, like yesterday. He also apologized because he had meant to call the school, but had somehow 'spaced out' on doing it." Helen exhaled a breath of relief, "A part of me should just drive down there and drag your sister back to school, but another part is just so relieved that Joan's in safe company."

Luke asked, "So what _are_ you going to do?"

"Against everything else, I'm actually going to let Joan enjoy the rest of the day. She's going to need today's taste of freedom because once your father and I are through with her... it will be a _very_ long time before she ever gets so much of a whiff of it again." A puzzled look crossed her face, "Though, I'm still trying to figure out _why_ your sister would be compelled to spending her time at the Herald..."

An uneasy silence fell upon Grace, Luke, Adam and Iris, which had managed to catch Helen's attention. "What is it?"

Iris gazed over at Adam, her eyes pleading with him to say something. Adam himself shifted uncomfortably, while Luke debated within himself to share the recent development. 

It was Grace who broke the silence. With her eyes darting around the area, finally landing on Adam's pen, she reached over and snatched it from his grasp. "Hand it over, Rove."

"What're you doing--?" Iris asked, irked and startled as Grace started scribbling on the banner.

More than happy to send a glare her way, "What does it look like I'm doing?" Grace continued writing until she straightened up, cast a haughty smirk at Iris, and handed Adam his pen back. Pointing to her handy work, "There. I think that Price deserves at least some ounce of reality before becoming suffocated with pure sugar-coated, hypocritical _fluff _in disguised of well-intentioned sentiments."

Luke looked over Grace's shoulder, reading out loud, "_'To Mr. Price. While you're sitting in your private hospital quarters that was undoubtedly paid for by the common tax payers, try not to forget the little people at Arcadia High. It goes without saying that your judgmental tyranny is sorely missed. Get well soon, yours truly, Grace Polk.'_"

Helen gave the young woman a half smile, "Okay... well, that was... _honest_ of you, Grace."

"Thus the overall point." Grace nodded, her smirk never leaving Iris's gaze.

The art teacher glanced over the entire project before turning her eyes towards Iris. "This is an incredible gesture, Iris. I'm sure Mr. Price will be grateful."

"I hope so, Mrs. G." Iris grinned, pleased by her teacher's reaction. "I talked to Principal Chadwick, and he approved for me and A to leave campus early to deliver the banner to Mr. Price."

"Well, keep up the good work." She gave an approving nod towards her students, patted Luke's arm with motherly affection, then headed on back towards her classroom.

Once Helen was out of sight did Iris turn her pleased smile to a scowl and directed at Grace. "Why did you write that?"

"Shall I cite the amendments that say that I could? Or would that be extremely difficult for your brain to process?" Grace snickered, more than thrilled to create a rise out of Iris.

The petite girl shook her head, disgusted. "Never mind... it doesn't matter now. In fact, what I want to know is _why_..." She turned towards Adam, "Why are you guys trying so hard to protect Joan?"

"Excuse me?" Grace replied, answering not only for Adam, but for herself and Luke. The three classmates regarded Iris with the same look of surprise and confusion.

"You," Iris glanced at Luke first, "I can understand because you guys are family." She gazed over at Grace, "And _you_, well you two are friends. Joined together against the common enemy, which I'm assuming is _me_." Finally towards Adam, "But _you_? Well, I bet that your reason has nothing to do with your feelings towards _Jane_... or does it?"

"Hey!" Grace snapped, causing Iris to turn and meet eye-to-eye with the other woman. Luke had taken a step back, glancing somewhat sympathetically at Adam, who was non too happy about the impending chaos before them. The only thing that seemed to physically stand between the two girls was the table with the banner.

"What?" Iris glared, uncharacteristically pissed. She was never a violent person, but she had grown up with an abusive parent. This fact had caused Iris to grow up and defend herself by any means necessary.

"Back. Off. Minnie Mouse. Don't tempt me into sending you with a one way ticket to Never Never land!"

"My _name_ is _Iris_. Why do you insist on slandering me with these stupid names?"

"You're the one to talk!" Mocking, "Hey _A_! How was chemistry, _A_? What're you? The Fonz? His name is _Adam_! _Adam Rove_! God! Even Joan could come up with a better nickname than _that_!"

Iris stared in disbelief, shaking her head sadly though her eyes were flashing, "All roads lead back to _Jane_... Jane, Jane, _Jane_!"

"Hallelujah! Miss Brady Bunch gets the point! Someone give her a cookie!" Grace sneered in amusement.

"Stop it!" A voice cracked into the thick tension that had developed between the two girls. Half expecting a teacher, they turned towards the voice and were stunned at the person it belonged to. Adam Rove stared hard at the two, his eyes cold and laced with disappointment. "Just stop it. I'm really sick of this _thing_ you guys have against one another! If you two are going to kill each other, can you at least do it where neither Luke nor I would end up in the middle? As a casualty in your war?"

"Fat chance." Both Iris and Grace mumbled simultaneously.

"Look, he's right." Luke stepped in. "And if you won't be civil just for the sake of being civil, at least do it for Adam. This tug of war is going to end up killing him."

The girls stared each other down, not budging to acknowledge either side. Finally, they both walked away, giving a flighty response.

"Going to grab some supplies." Iris spoke, heading towards the art room.

"Going to grab a soda." Grace commented, heading towards the vending machines in the opposite direction.

They watched the girls walk away, Adam regarding them sadly and desperately wishing that Joan was here Luke gave Adam half a helpless and half a compassionate smile. Their silent understanding was, however, interrupted by a presence signing the banner a few feet behind them.

"Y'know..."

Looking up, they caught sight of Friedman, just as he was placing the cap back on his pen. As he sauntered up to them, Luke inwardly groaned at the impending Friedman-ism. Once he stood next to Adam and Luke, Friedman continued, "If you're looking for something, other than your bloody corpses, to get in between Lady Montegue and Lady Capulet... I have an idea."

"What, Friedman? A continent?" Luke replied, bracing himself for Friedman's response.

"Actually," He began, a simple yet crude smirk on his face, "I was thinking more of a rink..."

Adam looked on, confused, "A _rink_?"

Nodding, and with a twinkle in his eye, "Preferably _muddy_..."

_JoA~~JoA_

Sitting in a hospital's waiting area, patiently and anxiously awaiting news of someone in surgery, wasn't exactly a new development to Joan Giradi. She had gone through all this with Kevin and his accident. The only difference between this situation and the past was that Mr. Price's life didn't depend on the success of the operation.

After having breakfast with Kevin at the same diner as last night, Joan was dropped off in front of the hospital building. Joan had asked Kevin for one last favor before she was to finally tell their parents about Price. So, while Kevin was receiving the frantic phone call from school, Joan was making herself comfortable in the waiting room.

An hour ago, she had talked to Doctor Wyatt before they had wheeled Price into surgery. Joan didn't have the chance to talk to Price himself because the nurse had injected anesthesia into his body. Wyatt informed Joan that Mr. Price had told him that she was to receive the same visitation privileges as any immediate family member. Joan herself thought that was kind of fair, considering that she has been Price's only visitor. Wyatt also informed Joan that she was to stay in the waiting area until he is to approach her with news of the operation.

Doctor Wyatt had estimated that the operation would take as long to an hour or two, three maximum, but not unusual. After that, they'll bring Price into the recovery room, which he will have to remain in there for at least another hour or two for observation. Joan, using basic math skills, figured that she had at least five hours to wait before she could actually see Price. A part of her reasoned that she could have spent those hours at school, but another part pointed out that she would have spent those hours constantly worrying about him. If she had shown signs of anxiety at school, Adam and Grace would most likely pick up on that and then how would she go about explaining?

So here she was, sitting in the hospital waiting area, lunch hour hastily approaching. Joan knew that _Someone,_ with a capital _G_, was aware of her truancy, but she didn't care... that much. Figuring on balancing the odds, she brought along a bunch of various class notes and three texts; AP Chemistry, French, and History.

Chewing absently on a Snickers bar while leafing through her history book, Joan hardly noticed the figure taking a seat opposite of her. There was a small, long table set between the chairs, holding various magazines. Joan had used the table as a place to prop her feet up on.

"Hi. Wanna play?" A small, pleasant voice spoke to Joan, causing her to look up. Her eyes settled upon a little boy, no older than ten years old, with big brown eyes, black hair, wearing a black shirt with a wolf design, holding a checkers board on his lap.

A smile found its way onto Joan's lips. How could she say "No" to the child, especially as he was looking at her with soft expectant eyes? Deciding that playing checkers with a child was a lot more fun than studying history, "Sure. I'm game."

"Okay. Do you want to be black or red?" He asked, indicating towards the pieces.

Joan saw that the black pieces were already facing her side on the board, and deciding not to trouble the little boy, "I'll take black."

The little boy placed the game down on the table between them. He sat himself on the floor, Joan following suit. He looked at her, curious, "Do you want to go first?"

She shook her head politely, "That's okay... you can go." Joan gazed warmly at the child, briefly thinking of Rocky, the little boy that she used to baby-sit until he passed away. As the little boy moved his first piece, she introduced herself to him. "By the way, my name's Joan."

"I know..." He replied simply, which caused Joan to gape at him. Joan inwardly groaned a _"Oh God..."_ She was about to make a snap comment when he continued with, "That's what your friend told me."

Joan stared at the little boy, even more confused. "What? Wait... you're not--"

"I believe it's your move, Joan." A familiar voice entered the scene.

Joan looked up, this time there was no mistaking the form. Minus the cast and crutches, though still wearing the form of a student soccer player, God sat Herself on the chair next to the little boy.

Unable to ignore the apparent difference, Joan smirked as she indicated to Her leg, "Wow, that was a quick recovery."

"In medical terms, they'd call it a miracle." God quipped, smiling at the irony in Her statement. Indicating towards the checker board, "Kris is still waiting for you to make your move."

Joan looked over at the little boy, Kris, and gave him an apologetic smile. She reached over and moved a piece before turning her attention back on God. "You really had me fooled, y'know. Was that some kind of test?"

"Is it my fault that you didn't bother to ask Kris for his name?" God's eyes were on Kris, who had just moved another of his piece. To Joan, "Your move."

"I can see that!" She hissed at God, though began blushing as she realized that she was getting mad at God in front of a little boy. Then again, Kris didn't know that her "friend" was God...

Once Joan, who wasn't paying much attention, moved a piece, "Why are you here? Let me guess, you're here to tell me that skipping school, no matter how good the cause, was a stupid move on my part?"

Joan's eyes were on God when Kris moved his second piece over Joan's first piece, thus capturing it. God chuckled at the move, more so when Joan realized what had happened. "Hey!" She protested.

"You should pay attention, Joan. You could learn a lot from Kris." God noted, though there was a lot more to her voice than just amusement.

Not ignoring the cryptic remark, "Is that a snarky comment or one of your suggestions?"

"Your move, Joan." Kris spoke, smiling expectantly.

She groaned, having this feeling that she'll lose a game of checkers to a little kid, "Fine... there. Your turn."

"That's not an assignment if that's what you're asking." God smiled, which didn't give Joan any comfort. She realized she had a right to worry as God stood up and continued, "Though this might be: I'd like you to watch Kris for a while. His parents are up in the children's ward keeping his brother company."

"What?"

God turned to Kris, "You're in good hands, Kris." To Joan, "I'll talk to you later, Joan." She began walking away, "And if you have to go, just accompany Kris upstairs, third floor, children's ward." 

Joan stared at God, especially as She gave Joan the backhand wave. Speechless, Joan turned to Kris, who was merely focused on the board game. Meekly, "My move?"

"Uh-huh." He nodded.

"Great..." Joan mumbled, though not as eager to play as before. Cheering herself up a bit, she had to admit that this was a lot better than being asked to play _chess_.

_JoA~~JoA_

By their fifth game of checkers, both Joan and Kris decided on a draw. Noon time was within a few minutes and Joan had offered to take Kris up to his parents if he was hungry. Kris replied that he had a big breakfast and that he didn't want to bother his mom and dad.

"They have a lot on their minds..." He spoke softly, with a hint of sadness that Joan couldn't mistake.

Remembering what God said earlier, Joan approached the subject with hesitation, "Is it about your brother?"

Kris gave a sad smile, though it brightened upon proudly telling Joan, "I'm a twin! My brother's name is Kyle."

Smiling at Kris's enthusiasm, "That's cool."

"Yeah..." Kris nodded, "We have the same eyes, same hair color... mom says that we even have dad's smile! Oh, and we like a lot of the same things!"

"I bet you and your brother often play tricks on your parents, huh? Making them guess who's who." Joan grinned, though it quickly vanished upon seeing Kris's own smile slowly disappearing.

Quietly, "Not really... you can usually tell us apart. Mainly because..."

"Because...?" She softly encouraged, though quickly adding, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"That's okay," Kris replied earnestly. "People always ask me about Kyle anyway, but I don't mind talking about him. Not many people know that we're twins, but we are! My dad had told us that we were born only _fifteen minutes_ apart." The proud grin appearing once more on his face, "I'm the oldest."

"Wow." Joan remarked, sincerely impressed.

"Which is why I have to look out for Kyle, y'know? I'm his big brother. I'm supposed to protect him."

"I bet that you're a great older brother." Joan smiled softly, thinking of Kevin.

"Yeah... there were some mean kids at school, always picking on Kyle. Just because he can't hear like anyone else."

Joan straightened up on that last sentence. Cautiously, "Your brother is deaf?"

Kris gave a small nod, "Uh-huh. So mom and dad sent him to a special school, but I didn't want him to go. Me and Kyle wanted to stay together because if he went to a different school, who would protect him?"

Joan's heart broke upon hearing his story. "Well, at least now that he's at the other school, those mean kids aren't going to be there to pick on him."

"That's what my mom said..." Kris replied sadly. "But I still miss seeing him at school."

"I'm sure you do."

"Joan? You want to hear something cool?" His mood brightened, which caused Joan to smile as well. 

"Uh, sure. What is it?"

Proudly, "I'm the only kid in my class that knows how to sign! Watch!" Kris then continued to talk both verbally and with his hands, "My name is Kris-to-pher..." With his right hand, he spelled out his first name, then continued to spell his last name. "Wal-ton!"

Joan watched him with a mixture of amusement and awe. "Wow, and you're how old?"

Continuing to talk and sign, "I'm nine years old. And you?"

"How do you sign the word 'sixteen'?" Joan feebly asked, which caused Kris to laugh.

For a moment, he stopped signing as he explained to Joan how long he's been signing. Joan learned that Kyle was born hearing impaired, that his family had to quickly adjust to a slightly different lifestyle. It was still of the norm, but they now had to learn how to speak in sign in order to communicate and understand Kyle.

Kris then asked if Joan would like to learn how to sign, which caused her to laugh nervously. "Uh... I don't think I'd be as good as you..."

"But you can _try_." Kris insisted. "Want to at least know how to spell your name?"

Unable to resist the appeal of a nine year old with a bubbly personality, Joan relented and allowed herself to be taught some of the basics to sign language. Joan found herself surprised at how quickly she picked up on some of the words. By the time an hour had passed, Joan found herself able to sign a few common words, her name, and a few sentences. As a half hour passed, Joan was also able to understand _some_ of what Kris signed to her without speaking.

It was around quarter to two when Kris's mother and Doctor Wyatt exited off the elevator. They approached the waiting area, their eyes upon a young woman and a little boy silently speaking to one another. The only sounds coming out of their mouths were a few laughs here and there, with Joan giggling on her mistakes and Kris laughing and correcting her.

"Kris? Sweetheart?" Mrs. Walton approached the pair, her eyes smiling kindly upon Joan. "You made a new friend, huh?"

"Mom!" Kris stood up, grinning excitedly. He glanced over at Joan, "C'mon... talk to her."

Joan shook her head at first, but when Kris began to pout, she reluctantly stood up and approached his mom. Slowly signing, praying that she doesn't mess up, "Hello. My name is Joan Giradi." She bit her lower lip as she concentrated spelling her name correctly. When she was talking with Kris, it was a lot simple because he was this patient little boy with no real expectations.

Mrs. Walton played along, both verbally and with her hands, "It's nice to meet you, Joan. I'm Kris's mother, Dana Walton. Thank you so much for watching my little boy." She stopped signing as she turned towards her son, "Sweetie, the doctor said that you can come up now and visit Kyle. Say 'thank you' to Joan, okay? For watching you." Back at Joan, "Thank you again. I hope he wasn't too much trouble."

Joan smiled, this time just speaking, "He wasn't. As you saw, he was teaching me how to sign. And I had fun learning from him. It was a pleasure, Mrs. Walton. Your son is a very bright kid." Her eyes spied Doctor Wyatt and immediately thought of Price. Since her time with Kris, she had nearly forgotten why she was initially here. 

Kris looked up at Joan, signing as he spoke, "Thank you, Joan. I hope to see you again. I had fun showing you how to sign!" 

"Well, thank _you_ for _teaching_ me to sign. I really had a lot of fun. You should be a teacher some day." Joan reached over and ruffled his hair, causing him to laugh.

Joan watched as Dana and Kris Walton headed towards and entered the elevator. She gave a small wave to Kris, who was waving his hand frantically just as the elevator door closed on them. Allowing a small laugh to escape her lips, she finally turned towards the doctor.

"Miss Giradi?" Doctor Wyatt addressed Joan, recalling their brief formal introduction earlier.

"How is he?" Was the first thing out of her mouth. Realizing that the anxiety over his operation was finally getting to her, "I'm guessing that the operation is over? I mean, why else would you be down here, right?"

Giving her a reassuring smile, "He's fine. He's under observation right now and because the operation had gone smoothly, he'll remain in the recovery room for at least another hour. After which, we should be able to transfer him back to his room and the anesthesia should have worn out by then."

"So... when can I be able to see him?"

"If you want, Miss Giradi, you may be able to see him now. Under normal circumstances, we usually allow immediate family members to visit patients in the recovery ward. However, considering the situation, I can allow you to see him for a few minutes."

Joan had cast him an appreciative smile, "Thank you." She quickly grabbed her bag, shoving her textbook in, then followed Doctor Wyatt. 

On the way up, Wyatt had filled Joan in on what Price should expect on his road to recovery. How, because of the extent of his accident, and the amount of surgery they had to inflict upon his leg joints, it would be awhile before Gavin Price could walk on his own again. He was required to stay in the hospital for two more weeks and kept off his feet. Once the two weeks had passed, he'll be examined to see how far the extent of healing has progressed. Upon getting the okay, Price could leave the hospital on his own accord, though recommended to still stay off his feet. Physical therapy was in order, but it would start off small. Mostly leg stretches and not too much emphasis on the walking, for fear that the joints would be weak, fragile and unable to hold up the body weight. Doctor Wyatt's own estimation on how long before Price could walk again: Six months to a year. Mostly depending on how dedicated Price was to his therapy. He had told Joan that the odds seemed to be in Gavin Price's favor, considering how under normal circumstances, that accident could have permanently shattered his leg bones.

Joan listened attentively, wondering if this is what it would be like if Kevin's injuries were temporary instead of permanent. She also decided to keep mental note in the possible event that God "suggested" that she help Price along the way.

Doctor Wyatt ushered Joan inside Price's observation room. She noted that it wasn't that different from his private quarters, except maybe a bit smaller. Joan glanced over at Wyatt, who had taken upon himself to leave them for a bit. He reminded Joan that she could only stay for a few minutes, which she agreed to make it quick.

"Hey..." She softly whispered to him, though knowing well enough that he couldn't hear her. However, a thought did cross her mind that maybe he _could_, but considering that he was still under medication... "Y'know, you're lucky. From what Doctor Wyatt told me, a year from now you could be back at Arcadia High. Strolling down the halls and reigning terror like only Vice Principal Gavin Price could."

As she regarded his form, eyes closed as if only sleeping a blissful dream, Joan couldn't help but think how angelic Price looked. There's much that could be said about watching someone sleep... and Joan, for the life of her, couldn't take her eyes off him. He looked so at peace that one could forget that he's been a certain way, acted with a certain attitude, lived a life or two, been someone's friend and foe, lover and father... Watching him right now, Joan didn't see VP Price... she just saw a man that's completely unaffected by the world around him. In other words, Joan thought he was the most luckiest man alive.

With as light a touch, she took his hand into hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. Softly, "I'm here... and I'm _really_ glad that you're okay." Quietly, she placed his hand down and slowly made her way towards the door. Taking one last glance over her shoulder, she smiled at him. "I'll see you later."

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_


	12. Chapter 11: the Impending Storm

_Mini-dedication: Unusual as it is, I must dedicate the last half of this chapter to the soundtrack to the movie **50 First Dates**. The soundtrack just kicks major ass and has been the source of ammo against the writer's block I had while writing this chapter. _

**Chapter Eleven: ... The Impending Storm**

She had forgotten that this whole thing had started because of a simple little suggestion. God had asked if she could visit Mr. Price in the hospital... so she did. She made a one time visit, actually benefited from it because she had gotten to see a side to Price that she never knew existed, and that was it. God then made another little suggestion; continue to visit Price. God wasn't specific as to the _when_, but made a point to suggest that it should be as often as possible before Price was to leave its grounds. So, with as much reluctance and guilt, she did. 

And though Joan Giradi will not verbally admit it, she was glad that God made the suggestions. Joan couldn't quite figure out the relief that came with doing this task until she found herself sitting alone in Mr. Price's private quarters. She had asked Doctor Wyatt's permission if she could wait for Price in his room during his time in recovery. Wyatt had approved, thinking that it would do no harm and that his patient could probably benefit from the company awaiting him in his room. 

So Joan sat in Price's room, thinking about the past few days and wondering why she seemed so determined to separate this part of her life to everything else. Maybe it had to do with the fact that this was a welcomed distraction from the everyday drama she normally had to endure. Upon reflection, Joan realized that as she woke up this morning, she never woke up to feel the anxiety she had to face once more seeing Adam with Iris, or the impending doom of another chemistry class, or even dread at the thought of God showing up.

Or maybe... fear? Joan wouldn't deny that she was afraid to tell Adam and Grace about her first visit with Price. What would they say? How would they react?... questions that otherwise continued to plague Joan with each moment passed as she found herself getting away with keeping this secret. Like a ticking bomb just waiting to explode and Joan was merely on borrowed time. This caused Joan to ponder Kevin's lecture from the night before... could there be some truth to his words?

Joan was caught up in such reflection that she never noticed as the weather began to shift. She had barely taken the time to notice the skies, except maybe to glance up and curse a certain _being_. Which is why she was startled at the beginning sounds of patter, as the rain slowly descended upon the earth. Joan turned, then standing as she began to part the drapes and stare as the tears from heaven fell. She would have normally cursed at such luck, to be stuck in a certain place because of the dour weather. However, considering that Joan had wanted to be here in the first place, she smiled.

She sat right down, softly watching the rain, and enjoying the relative peace of it all. She surprisingly let out a yawn, realizing that the quiet was having a tiring affect on her. Joan placed her head on her arms, stretched her body a bit, slipped on her earphones and allowed the mixture of soft rock and the rhythmic rain falling to lull her into slumber.

The hour quickly came and went as Joan was still softly napping as Doctor Wyatt, assisted by a nurse and an orderly, wheeled Price back from observation. Gavin Price was considerably awake, despite being a bit drowsy from the anesthesia. At the sight of the young student sleeping in the chair next to his bed, a warm smile played on his lips. He gave a questioning glance at his physician, to which Wyatt replied, "She wanted to be here when you got out of recovery."

Price nodded, allowing them to help him into his bed. His eyes were on Joan while Wyatt began explaining what he was to expect the next few weeks and what needs to be done in order to fully recover. Wyatt also added, something that he hadn't mentioned to Joan, that there was a chance that though he will walk again, he might need a support. 

"You mean, like a cane?" Price asked, though trying his best to savor the mere fact that he's still capable of walking.

"Yes, at first. Considering that surgery was done on _both_ of your legs, the extra support would take the weight off your ligaments. This doesn't essentially mean that you'll need such device for the rest of your years, but don't be surprised to find it becoming an necessity. It all depends on therapy and how fast the healing in your legs progress."

Price fell his head back on the pillows, chuckling at his situation. "Great, so basically I could be the next Johnny Smith?"

Doctor Wyatt smiled, relieved that of his patient's sense of humor. "Without the added paranormal sensory, I would say so."

"Okay, so what now? I could leave the hospital..."

"Two weeks from now I'll be administrating an examination. From there, depending on the results, we'll see. As for _now_, I suggest that you rest. Your lower half is still under the affects of the regional anesthesia we administered during operation, which is why you're unable to produce any feeling in your legs. However, it should wear off later in the evening."

Price gave a worried glance, prompting the doctor to confirm his fear. "Yes, there will be some residual pain. Which is why I'm prescribing medications and I'll be having a nurse come in to give them to you. Starting tonight. Is there any other questions that I could answer for you, Mr. Price? Anything that we can do for you?"

"Actually..." Price glanced over at Joan, who was still asleep and unaware of her surroundings. With an amused, somewhat fatherly concern, "Can I request a blanket for my young friend over here?"

Doctor Wyatt gave a glance in the orderly's direction, causing the young man to exit the room. To Price, "That's not a problem. Anything else?"

Shaking his head, "No, that's about it."

The orderly reentered the room, handing the folded blanket to the nurse. From there, she gently placed it over Joan, smiling softly at the young lady. Price's eyes never left Joan as Doctor Wyatt began speaking again. "Well, you know where the call button is, and if there's anything else, just let us know. Tomorrow morning I'll be back for a check up, to see if there was any unnecessary side-affects or changes."

This had caught Price's attention, once more giving a worried look towards the doctor. Wyatt, however, began reassuring his patient, "It's pretty unlikely that there will be side-affects, but it's just a precautionary measure. Nothing to worry about. It's a required procedure."

"Okay, doctor. Whatever you say... thank you." He nodded, though not as confident as he'd have like to appear. His gaze shifted back onto Joan's sleeping form as Wyatt and the others let themselves out.

Price watched Joan for a while, a gentle smile on his face. This had caused a fond memory to emerge and his own eyes to glisten sadly. Refusing to give in to nostalgia, Price quickly wiped his eyes, shook his head to possibly erase the reminiscence, and looked around to find a distraction. He reached over for the Stephen King novel and began continuing where he left off.

Alone in his thoughts, Price began quickly being filling his head with mental imagery of scenes being read in _The Green Mile. _Until a surprised, yet pleased voice broke his concentration.

"Hey... you're back."

His eyes turned towards the soft voice, smiling fondly at her. "Same could be said to you. Morning, young miss."

Joan removed her ear phones, stretched her arms a bit, and allowed another yawn to escape her lips as she blinked her eyes. She looked down, noticing the blanket, then turned curious eyes up on him.

Price laughed quietly, "I had an orderly fetch one for you. You were sleeping like a baby when I got in."

A faint blush appeared on her face, causing her eyes to down cast. Mumbling, "Fell asleep watching the rain."

His gaze turned towards the window, noticing the gloomy skies. "Yes... it's quite a down pour." Concerned, he turned to her, "You do have a ride home, right?"

Teasing, "Is that your subtle way of asking me to leave?"

Retorting, "Is that _your_ subtle way of saying that you _want_ to leave?"

Joan laughed as she got up and began dragging her chair closer to his bed. "The weather sucks, what do you think?"

Price placed his book aside, intertwining his hands together as his eyes regarded Joan's every move. Watching her settling back down, "Have you been hiding out in my room the whole time?"

"Not the whole time. Doctor Wyatt had let me stay here while you were in recovery. I spent most of the day in the waiting room."

"Joan," He had tossed her a kind smile, "Thank you for being here. I really appreciate the company."

Giving him a sad smile, "I just wish your family could have been here for you... but, other than that, I'm glad that I could be here for you... and I mean, hey," giving a timid laugh, "I was able to get out of school."

Raising a brow at her, "Don't make that a habit, Miss Giradi. Despite the circumstances." He regarded her bag, "So, tell me that you at least got some studying done."

"Well, I'm afraid not..." She tossed him a helpless shrug, "A _friend_ had asked if I could keep an eye on a little boy. His twin brother was admitted in the children's ward."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Price replied, sincerity evident.

Joan gave a small nod, "Me too. But this kid is just..." With awe, "_Amazing_. Very smart and he's had to deal with..." She looked up at Price, "His brother is deaf and this nine year old kid has been talking in signs even before he could ride a bike! It's incredible, actually. I mean, he even tried to teach _me_..."

Price regarded Joan silently, surprised by this news. More so wondering if maybe...

"Check this out;" Excited to show him what she's learn, Joan began slowly signing, "Hi! My name is Joan--" Her look was intense was she concentrated on spelling out each letter, "Gi-ra-di. What is your name?" She placed her hands down, "Neat, huh? I can even spell your name!" 

Joan raised her right hand and just as she began to spell his name, Price had beaten her to it with uncanny ease. 

"P-R-I-C-E." He spoke softly, surprising Joan. Her eyes widened, stunned, as he began speaking to her both verbally and with his hands, much like Kris. "It's nice to meet you, Joan."

Her mouth gaped, her eyes blinked, "You-- you know how to talk in sign?"

He nodded modestly, "Yes..." His voice trailed off, hesitant before adding, "I had to learn... it's a long story..."

Joan propped her elbows on his bed, regarding him. Price began shifting his gaze around as he played with his hands timidly. She didn't know why he was being nervous, but with the impending awkward silence close ahead, Joan decided to lighten the mood. A smile played on her lips as she said, "Y'know, I was going to ask Kris how to sign 'Shut-up', because I can spell Friedman's name alright and just figured I'd go the whole nine yards..."

Price tried to stifle a laugh, though his mouth twitched into a grin that couldn't be contained. He tried to give Joan a serious, somber look, but found that he couldn't stop smiling. "I'm _not_ going to teach you profanity in _any_ language, Miss Giradi."

"Okay, fine." Joan huffed, pouting in a mock fashion. "Guess I'll just have to spell it out, then. S-h-u-t-u-p." She spelled out the phrase with her hands, though upon the final letter, Price was giving her a wise look and seemed to be holding back a snicker. "What?"

"You... uh, you got your Q's and your P's mixed up, Joan." He informed her. "Unless there really is such an expression as 'Shut U Q'."

Sincerely confused, with her right hand, she held out her thumb and pointer finger, curling the rest of her hand while facing them downwards. "I though this was a P."

He shook his head, "The P's and the Q's are _almost_ the same, except there's an additional finger involved with the letter P." Price held out his own hand, extending his pointer finger, allowing the middle finger and thumb to touch while the others curled inward. From there, he motioned his hand down as if pointing towards the floor. "P..." Then, he simply curled the middle finger in, allowing just the pointer and the thumb to remain. "Q."

Joan chagrined, "Wow... and here I was about to spell _your_ name."

"Q- Rice?" He snickered, causing Joan to giggle. "That sounds like a lean cuisine... So, you get the difference? Try it."

"I didn't think I'd confuse the two!" She groaned, embarrassed.

He shook his head, "It's okay, Joan. This is technically your first time signing. No one is perfect..."

"'To err is human'?" She gave a slight shrug, though glancing casually upward.

"Exactly. So..." He held up his hand again, demonstrating, "P... Q. P... Q." Price placed his hand down, looking at her expectantly, "Your turn, Joan."

_JoA~~JoA_

There were two things that Adam Rove hadn't counted on today. One was the unexpected rain showing down on them. The second thing was having Joan absent from school. It's not that his whole existence revolved around _Jane_... at least that's what his head kept telling his emotions.

The spontaneous burst of afternoon showers had created a conflict for Adam and Iris's planned visitation. With the exception of taking the bus, they had no other mode of transportation. That was when Helen Giradi volunteered her service to her well-intentioned art students. Luke himself was merely following because he had no other ride home. Plus curiosity had gotten the better of the young scientist, wondering-- along with the rest of the student body-- as to Price's state and the cause for it. There was one other person accompanying them, and her motives for following were quite mysterious... especially as she masked it with her usual morose behavior.

"Damnit, Rove." Grace Polk growled at her childhood friend. Sending daggers his way, "I had better things to do this afternoon than play Scooby Do Mysterious with you..." Pointing at Iris, who was helping Adam carry the rolled up banner, "Daphne..." Then glancing at Luke, who was watching the doors for his mother to join them in the hospital lobby, "And Velma."

"Breathe, Grace." Adam sighed, briefly glancing heavenward.

Ignoring him, "So what do we do now, _Scrappy_? Wait until Shaggy parks the Mystery Van and _then_ we can raid the nearest fridge?"

Iris rolled her eyes, tired of Grace's incessant raving. With a smirk on her face, "So does that make you _Scooby_?"

Grace snarled, "Wait a minute! You're not Daphne! Let me just _rip off_ your _face_ to reveal who you really. Are!" She took a step towards Iris, who had instinctively taken a step behind Adam. Luke jumped right in, grabbing Grace's arm and tugging her aside.

"Step back, Giradi!" Grace warned Luke, "This isn't your fight..."

"And this isn't Adam's either... remember?"

"I don't recall establishing a truce."

Not helping the situation, Iris remarked, "I'm surprised you even know what a truce is! Given your thirst for senseless acts of violence!"

"Iris!" Adam snapped, giving his girlfriend, for the first time ever, a reproaching glare. Softly, he added, "You're not helping."

Grace threw her hands up in exasperation. "Fine! You can let go of my arm, Giradi. I'm not going to kill her... or hurt her... or step on her tail..." She moved away from Luke, rubbing the part of her arm where his hand had grasped her.

"Really?" He looked her over, suspicious.

She nodded, though there was a twinkle in her eye as she continued glaring, "Yeah... it's pointless to try _anyway_. We're in a hospital... they'll have no choice but to revive her..."

Luke and Adam shared a tired look before rolling their eyes. "Grace," Adam began, walking towards his friend, "Can we talk?"

As Adam ushered Grace to the side, Luke walked over to Iris, giving her a kind smile. Iris returned the smile, though her gaze quickly followed Adam and Grace. Suspicious and doubtful.

"Look, Rove," Grace started with a frustrated sigh, "If it's about the infestation..."

"Quit it." Adam glared, his voice soft yet warning. "Grace... look, I'm glad that you're here. You and I have always hung out... but if you're just going to start picking fights with Iris--"

Grace's eyes narrowed, "As I stated _before_, I had better things to do. Who invited the other, Rove? And why don't you ask Pinky over there to be civil instead of giving me the ultimatum?"

"Because she's not the one always trying to provoke the other."

"I don't exactly see her extending the olive branch either, _A_." She growled, which further frustrated Adam.

"Why don't you like her?" Adam asked, wanting to solve this situation between the two girls before any blood was shed. "I know you, Grace. There's more to your anger."

Being coy, she smirked, "Anger is such a... _soft_ word, Rove. There's _contempt, disdain_..._ scorn, fury_..."

"_Grace_..." His voice dropped to a plea, which aggravated Grace because, as much as she'll never admit to it, she had a soft spot for Adam Rove.

Her eyes dropped away from his gaze, looking down at the floor before reluctantly admitting, "She's not... _Iris _isn't..." A sigh, "She's _not Joan_."

"What do you mean?" He looked at her softly, his voice encouraging.

"It's bad enough that I have to share you with Giradi, but... Joan is one of us. She's got her _moments_, but what it all comes down to is; Joan makes sense. The three of us makes sense... we fit." Grace began to shift uncomfortably, her eyes down cast and refusing to look up into his eyes. Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, "Giradi with her over the top antics and way too teenaged personality, me with my own convictions and personal vendettas, and _you _with your soft even tempered innocence... I mean,_ w_e have our differences... but that's why we make sense..." Grace's voice suddenly rose defensively as she continued. "And that's why I don't like having an outsider coming in and screwing with this formula that we have going! That-- that _It_ comes in and suddenly if she's not trying to drag you away, she's shifting powers and adding more weight into our group than needed! Either way, she's knocking the balance! She's like this-- this extra body part that we don't need and I just want it amputated as quickly as possible."

Adam regarded his friend with sadness and understanding. "Grace... I didn't know..."

She sniffed as her eyes were glistening. A scowl formed on her face upon realizing her vulnerability as she forced herself to create the 'tough girl' facade. "Yeah, well, no one else knows and I'd like to keep it that way..." Grace shook her head, "Just forget it, Rove. I'll-- crap, I'll be the better person and _try_ to get along with Minnie-- I mean, _Iris_. For you..."

He gave her a smile, though he wanted to talk further about her apparent ill-feelings towards Iris. "Grace, you don't--"

"Just drop it." Grace snapped, her eyes now looking past Adam. "Mrs. Giradi's here." With that, she moved on over to join Luke's side. Adam himself watched Grace walk away with a heavy-hearted expression on his face. He knew he had to help his old friend out... but how? More importantly, Adam realized he didn't want to do this alone...

_JoA~~JoA_

"Are you sure?"

Price closed his eyes, allowing a small frustrated sigh. "Yes, Joan, I'm pretty sure. In fact, I'm about seventeen _years_ of experienced signing sure that this means 'beautiful' and _not_ 'face'." He demonstrated the movement again, his hand beginning in the _and_ position (fingertips curved somewhat touching the thumb) and first placed next to his chin as he continues to opens and fluidly close his hand as it circles counterclockwise around his face.

Joan, watching and still unsure, "_That _means 'beautiful'?"

Signing and verbally speaking, "Yes."

"So what's the sign for 'face'?"

With the same fluid motion, the only exception being that Price was using his right index finger instead of his whole hand. "_This_ means 'face'." Demonstrating once more, "Face... beautiful..." Slower, "Face... beautiful." He paused, raised brow, "Do you understand now?"

Joan laughed, "God, you must think I'm a complete moron... a nine year old could understand this a lot better than me... _wait_, there is a nine year old that understands sign language better than me!"

Price smiled softly at her, "Give it a try, Joan. You don't give yourself enough credit... which is odd especially coming from a young woman that was once convinced that her true calling in life was _boat building_."

She gave him a slight glare. "Okay... _face_..." Joan spoke while exhibiting the 'face' motion perfectly. 

Noting the near flawless execution, "That was perfect, Miss Giradi. Now... try _beautiful_."

Sighing, yet uncertain, Joan wearily waved her hand over her face. Price slightly narrowed his eyes, observing her dismissive behavior. "Okay, I know _that_ wasn't what you wanted, but I still don't understand how that can't _not_ stand for 'face'!"

"Joan," He refrained from snapping, though his voice was tight. "Try not to think too much about the word's motion, but understanding the word itself. Try it again."

Sitting straight, Joan began holding up her right hand in a rigid position. This unexpectedly caused Price to reach and place his right hand over her's. Unaware that the movement slightly startled Joan, he gave a tired sigh and explained, "Your hand looks prepared to project claws... think _fluid_, think _less tense_... think _beautiful_..."

Upon the last word spoken, Price was suddenly aware of her silence and refusal to move. Seeing that his hand was now faintly twined with Joan's, his gazed moved from their hands to her eyes. He noticed that she was looking at him with a mixture of surprise, confusion, and even _fear_... which automatically caused him to drop not just his gaze, but his own hand.

"My God... I'm sorry, Joan... I didn't mean to just-- I'm sorry." He began, inching away from her and now refusing to look at her.

She blinked her eyes, still stunned by what had transpired. "No... no, that's was fine... that was okay, Mr. Price, I--" With a nervous laugh, "I mean... God, why are you sorry?" Joan knew that a ramble was about to unearth from her lips. "You were just trying to teach me. Don't apologize because you didn't do anything wrong, right? You were giving me a lesson... you're my teacher-- no, you're more than that. You're my vice principal, so don't apologize..."

Price was looking down at his own hands, intertwined and sitting on his lap. He spoke softly and as the words poured from his mouth, his gaze reluctantly met her's. "_Because_ I'm your vice principal, I have to apologize."

"Oh..." Joan replied, startled and even more confused. An uncomfortable silence fell upon them before she realized that, "I think I should go." 

He quietly nodded, though apparent guilt and pain shone in his eyes. As Joan started up, grabbing her bags and casting him a timid smile, Price took a reflective pause before calling her name. She turned around, giving him a questioning look.

"I..." Price looked down, still quite unsure what to say despite wanting to say everything in his head. He stammered a bit, an act that Joan slightly watched with amusement. It was not every day that she could render someone of high authority _speechless_... and since she can't very well do that with _God_ yet, Mr. Price comes close.

Joan decided to put him out of his misery, "Mr. Price... it's okay. Honestly it's okay... but I think I should be going." 

He cast her a helpless nod as she turned the knob to open the door and step out--

"Oh God..."

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_


	13. Chapter 12: Fear Not

_A/N: Whee! Last chapter... last chapter... however, there's an epilogue so... hehe, not _quite_ done. Anyway, I bet a bunch of you were thrown off by the unexpected Joan/Price moment... but I had to throw that in mainly b/c I've been dying to use that "Never Been Kissed" phase in one of my fics and thought that it would go perfect with this story. Plus, I actually do UC ship Joan/Price so... HA. Anyway, the "Storm" has passed, thus..._

**Chapter Twelve: Fear Not...**

She needed to breathe... she needed to breathe _and_ get away from the stunned looks they were giving her. Joan felt like a caged rat, caught doing the unthinkable, and fearing the impending punishment.

"Oh God..."

"Joan?" Helen Giradi regarded her daughter, startled at her presence. Behind her, Joan saw to her dismay, were Luke, Grace, Adam and Iris. All were equally surprised at the sight of Joan... especially more so upon realizing from _where_ she had emerged from.

"Joan? Are you okay? What's going on?" Price's voice woke her reverie, causing her to face the reality of her situation. 

"Wow, and here I thought that Joan at the Herald was an unlikely scenario." Grace piped up. There was a slight irritation in her voice, though she masked it behind a subtle, bemused front. _First Adam starts hanging out with Cousin It... now Giradi with Price?_ Grace silently gagged at the thought... _What the hell are they on?_

Before Iris had turned to give Grace a disapproving glance for her comment, the petite art student was just as surprised by Joan's appearance as everyone else. Iris had a feeling that no matter how much thought she'd put to it, she could never fully understand Joan Giradi and her impeccably strange behavior. 

Luke was more than ever concerned of the Arcadia's water supply. He could somewhat understand some of his sister's erratic behavior, even how she'd pick up on some unusual past-times... _however_, seeing his sister emerge from the hospital room of a man that he believed she once couldn't stand was just beyond comprehension.

"Jane..." Adam began, confusion being an understatement as to what he feeling at this moment. While he could begin to fathom seeing Joan with that unknown '_other guy_', catching Joan within the same company of the likes of _Price_... that was another thing all together.

She could feel her eyes start to tear up, her own voice caught in her throat. Joan couldn't believe that this was happening, that one little suggestion had lead to this moment. The weight of the past few days, her confusion, and every questioning emotions suddenly seemed to awaken and surge all at once. Suddenly, Joan couldn't breathe... she needed to leave... **_now_**.

Joan pushed past her mother, past her friends, and headed towards the nearest way out; which was through the door of the hospital's stairwell. She spiraled down, faintly aware of her mother calling out her name. With an impending sob about to burst, Joan swallowed hard and threatened herself to gain control. The last thing she needed was an emotional breakdown... despite being in an appropriate place to have one.

As she emerged from the staircases and into the lobby area, she raced towards the main hospital doors when a familiar, and all too _perfectly timed_, voice caused her to halt in her steps.

_"Where are you going?"_

She turned towards the body from which the voice originated. Her eyes landed upon God, once more as the "cute" young man, whose own eyes were more than avid on the National Inquirer in His hands.

"Guess." Joan growled before taking steps towards the door.

While still casually reading the magazine, "You're going to catch a cold."

She jerked in her steps once more, cursing at the fact that she allowed herself to be stopped by him. With a scoff, "Right... thanks for the heads up, Nostradomus."

"It's common sense, Joan." He spoke, briefly glancing up at her before turning back towards the magazine. "You're stepping out into the pouring rain _without_ an umbrella... _without_ protection for the storm. You're opening yourself up to the elements unprepared... an illness is bound to happen. Actions have consequences... remember?"

"Well," She began, "I think I can brave the consequences... _and_ the weather." With that final word, Joan headed on out the exit. As the doors slid open, the stormy winds whirled around Joan and nearly knocked her back. She tightened her jacket, determined to make it outside, if just to spite Him. Once outdoors and welcomed by the sounds of the frantic raindrops and tempered wind, she wearily glanced at her surroundings... and sighed as she walked right back in.

Stepping back inside, Joan found to her irritation that God had not budge one inch from where He was sitting. More than that, God was _still_ reading that magazine. She stalked towards the lobby and sat on the chair opposite facing Him. Joan was about to make a quip comment when...

"According to this article, the New Dawn will begin at the start of the Sixth month of the year 2666." There was a small amount of amusement in His voice before He took a pause to add, "Guess that means _The O.C._ will have to wait..."

Not missing a beat, Joan sarcastically replied, "Funny... ha, would've pegged you for being a fan of _Wonderfalls_... or anything on CBS."

With His gaze still firmly on the Inquirer and a smirk on His "youthful face", "Hmm... What happened to 'braving the consequences'?"

"Okay, drop the nonchalant crap, will you? You're not helping." Joan glared as she reached over and yanked the magazine from His grasp. "Just indulge me with whatever words of wisdom that I could relatively get confused over, and end up ignoring until it came time to using it for the greater good."

Noting the weary edge in her voice, God asked with a raised brow, "Irritated much?"

Snipping back as she crossed her arms, "Twenty-questions much? What do you think?"

"I think you're angry. And one needn't be of _divine_ power to know that."

"Okay... see, this is good. You say something and I become confused as per normal."

Now it was God's turn to show signs of irritation. With a sigh, "You would think that I'd get use to those that mock me... why are you angry, Joan?"

"Who says that I'm angry? I'm _not_ angry!" She nearly bit His head off, which caused Him to give her a raised look. Upon noting the level of her voice, Joan winced and timidly replied, "Okay... fine. I'm angry. No, wait, I'm pissed off."

He stared evenly and expectantly at her. His look said that He was more than ready to patiently wait until she spoke the words that He had wanted to hear. Without speaking a single word, He sat in a composed, easy going manner while Joan began her rant.

"So I guess just to save us both time, I should just tell you _why_ I'm angry... at _you_. Like that's a surprise, huh? When am I _not_ mad at you? Why didn't you tell me, or at least give me some kind of _warning_, that they were going to be here? And when I mean _they_, I mean as in my _mother_, _Luke_, and the _only two_ friends I've held onto since moving to this stupid town!"

"There was a forewarning, Joan." He calmly replied. "If you were at school today, you would have heard it."

"Ha!" She pointed accusingly at Him, "So, what? Is this your twisted way of punishing me for skipping school?"

A laugh escaped His lips, which further irritated her. "Joan, I'm not punishing you. If anything, you just punished yourself."

"For what? For doing your bidding? You wanted me to be there for Price... well, I was there for him! I did what you asked and now you say that I'm punishing myself because of it?"

"Huh, that's funny..." He glanced up thoughtfully, "I don't exactly recall asking you to _lie_ to your parents, or even to your friends, about visiting Gavin Price... I don't recall asking you to have your _brother_ lie for you, nor do I recall asking you to skip classes..."

Joan glared at him, "Well, _I_ don't _recall_ you stopping me."

"When I get involve in the actions of mankind, things tend to get messy... which is why I try not to intervene and why I invented this thing called 'free will'."

A frustrated groan escaped her lips, causing Joan to place her head in her hands. As she tried to collect her bearings, right behind her, the elevator doors began to open and allowing both Grace and Adam to emerge. The looks on their faces spoke of worry and hope as their eyes scanned the area. Joan was unaware of their presence, considering that her back was facing the elevators.

God looked up, seeing the pair, then tossed a knowing smile at Joan. He remained calm as He spoke, "What are you afraid of, Joan?"

Upon hearing Joan's name, Adam and Grace turned towards the voice. Adam immediately recognized the face of Joan's "friend", which didn't fair well with his gut. Grace, however, slightly recognized the form and began dragging Adam towards their friend. They silently watched, and listened, as Joan and "the other guy" began talking.

"What?" Joan glanced up, still unaware of her approaching friends.

His eyes holding her gaze, "What're you afraid of?"

"I'm _not_ afraid of _anything_... I don't know what you're talking about." Adding with a scoff, "Not like that was a new development between us." 

He gave a nod, "Right... and that look on your face, a moment ago, before you ran wasn't at all similar to the look on Bridgette's face upon seeing her sister's _tail_."

While Joan tossed Him a perplexed look, from behind, Grace silently smirked.

"Okay, who the hell is Bridgette?" She asked, feeling some kind of conspiracy building around her.

"Why did you run?" He asked in a calm, yet direct manner.

"I-- I.." Joan began, her hands fumbling with her scarf tails while her eyes fell to the floor. Knowing that she could not get away with hiding the truth, she pleaded the fifth, "I don't know..."

Joan sighed, realizing that this was a battle she couldn't win. Invading once more into her defenses, God stared down at her. Staring all too willingly, too silently, too patiently for her to crack. With much reluctance on her part, "I guess... I guess I was afraid..."

"Of what?"

Sighing, "You _know_ what! I was afraid of losing _them_! You happy now?"

"Whom were you afraid of losing?"

"Questions, questions, questions! Don't you _ever_ tire of them?" Joan glared, waiting for a response. However, seeing that she won't even receive a snarky reply, she continued wearily. "Adam and Grace. I'm afraid of losing _Adam_ and _Grace_."

This was certainly news to the mentioned parties, whom were now listening avidly a few feet away. They glanced at each other, both questioning on whether or not the other knew and finding the same answer; No.

God smirked, slightly teasing, "Three letters, Joan."

She sighed, "Why? You want to know _why_? Okay, because I need them. Because they are the only two people in this town, next to my family, that I really care about! God! They make school certainly more bearable... I just need them in my life, alright?"

"What makes you think that spending time with Price will cause you to lose them?"

Joan couldn't help but laugh at His directness, "My, aren't we just getting straight to the point?" Glaring, "Because... Price is the enemy. I've basically betrayed some kind of student code of ethics that stress how we should _not_ hang out with a feared administrator. I've done some outrageous things that should have banished me from their lives... things, which as you've pointed out, were of good intentions. But for some strange fortunate reason, Adam and Grace were still there for me! So the past few days, me hanging out with Price had felt like I was on borrowed time... before _they_ find out and dismiss me _forever_! So now, my time seems to be up... Guess that's why I'm upset and pissed off...

"And I guess that I have no one to really blame but myself, huh? I really did ask for it because despite it all... I've come to enjoy spending time with him. It felt good to be needed... to just be friends with someone with no complications like romantic intentions or political differences... Oh God! I screwed up..."

He reached over to clasp her hands. Joan looked down, startled not so much by His touch, but by the mere fact that her hands were shaking. In fact, her whole composure seemed to be slowly falling apart. She gazed back up and into His eyes, which were staring at her with utter understanding and compassion.

He gave her hands a gentle squeeze, "Breathe, Joan... and fear not."

This caused an unintentional laugh to escape her lips, right before a small sob followed. He calmly watched her, "It's funny how some people treat relationships, bonds, like see-saws." Earning a questioning look from her, He continued. "Rocking back and forth through life together and seemingly balanced. However, once someone has to leave for whatever reason, temporary or permanent, the balance is broken... though easily replaceable once someone else comes along. The thing is, Joan; friendships, relationships, bonds between people aren't like that at all. People will come in and out of your life, but it's up to you to keep the ties and to make sure that they never get broken... especially by one's own fear."

Joan whimpered, seeing the truth in His words. He started speaking again, smiling at her, "Joan, despite all else... you've done good. Don't allow yourself to think otherwise. And don't allow yourself, or others, to make you feel ashamed of those ties. Friendships aren't meant to cause shame."

A bit fearful, she asked, "I'm not going to lose them, am I?"

With a raised, amused look, "What do you think?"

Joan smiled softly, wiping her eyes as she whispered, "Thank you."

He gave an acknowledged nod and began standing up. Joan watched Him, about to follow suit when He shook His head. "You stay..."

"Where are you going?" She stared up at Him, confused.

"The children's wing of the hospital." He replied with a soft shrug.

"Oh..." She beamed before looking back up at him with a worried expression. "Is Kris's brother--"

Reassuringly, "Kyle is going to be fine, Joan." Gazing down at her with quiet pride, "That was a nice thing you told Kris. How he should be a teacher..." He remarked, with a cryptic edge that Joan duly noted, before walking away towards the elevators.

She grinned softly, biting back a comment and instead opt to savor the possibility. Her head was still turned away from where her friends were still silently standing. Joan was unaware of God, looking like a normal teenage boy, strolling past Adam and Grace and tossing them an acknowledged smile and nod.

Joan decided to throw caution away and turned her head, about make the _"Vegas doesn't stand a chance against you."_ comment when her eyes landed upon her friends. Her mouth gaped, surprised by their appearance. With hesitation, "Hey... uh, what are you guys doing here and... how much of that conversation did you overhear?"

Adam and Grace glanced at each other before turning their gaze back to Joan. Grace shrugged, her nonchalance apparent, "Bridgette is a character from this independent horror movie, _Ginger Snaps_. You probably never heard of it because the mass corporations hardly recognizes metaphorical story-telling as opposed for big budget, big bang, big _fluff_ entertainment." She gave Joan a small smile, walking towards her friend and taking a seat next to her.

Joan gave a slight laugh, "I guess that means you downloaded it somewhere..."

Grace laughed softly, "Actually, I bought a copy off ebay..." Her expression darkened, though a half smile played on her lips, "But that just stays between you and me, got it Giradi?"

Adam himself started towards the two girls, sitting himself down in the exact same spot opposite of Joan. He gave a nod, "We heard enough, Jane."

"Really?" Joan felt that same tremor of panic, wondering if they had just joined in at the start of her conversation with God... or towards the end. Another thought had crossed her mind; did God know that they would be listening? She wouldn't have put that knowledge pass him, which probably explains that random _Ginger Snaps_ comment. He probably added that in to amuse Grace.

An awkward silence fell upon the trio, each unsure of what to say. As a tight unit, they would have their moments, but hardly would they ever allow an uncomfortable silence to settle amongst all three of them. Usually that would occur between two of the three, which would cause the third party to break the awkward still with a random diatribe. However, this time all three individuals were unsure as to how to break the silence.

Adam was gingerly playing this his jacket zipper as a reluctant sigh escaped his lips. He met their gazes, a rueful smile on his face. "Y'know, we can't go back."

"Go back where?" Joan asked, just as curious by his statement as Grace was.

With a shrug, "Back to the way it was, I guess. Back when we first started, just three reluctant lab partners. And whether or not you two will admit it, we were 'hanging out'. But we can't go back to those times..." His gaze held onto Joan's as he continued, "That _friend_ of yours?"

Joan knew that this line of question would come about sooner or later. "Adam," She started, "That _guy_ is just-- he's just an _old_ friend. There's nothing--"

Adam gave her a bemused smile, "Actually, Jane... I was going to say that... _he's right._"

She was surprised by his words, especially since she was already bracing herself for the worst. "What?"

"People will come and go into our lives, and we can't stop that..." He tossed a knowing glance at Grace, "Nor can we fight it."

Grace hung her head, slightly ashamed to admit the truth in Adam's words.

"So now what?" Joan asked, sadness and fear evident in her entire response. 

Adam gave a simple nod and a shrug, "Nothing... just-- we just go on." He shifted in his seat, glanced down then turned back up to look upon his two best friends. "People will come into our lives..." He looked intently at his oldest friend, "But I could find never another Grace." Then he turned and gazed adoringly at, "Or another Jane."

Joan's eyes began to mist. She glanced over at Grace, as if sharing the same thought. Returning Adam's soft look of adoration, "We could never find another Adam Rove..."

With a small laugh, he replied, "I hope not."

As Adam and Joan shared a smile, Grace rolled her eyes. "Okay, we've established that changes happen and that we just have to deal. Fine. Now let's cut the soap opera crap before I start wanting to hunt down the jackass that thought up teenage angst as a form of entertainment."

"I think that might have been Aaron Spelling." Joan commented, which earned a weary scowl from Grace.

Giving Joan a healthy pat on the arm, "Glad that there's only one of you, Giradi. _Really _glad." With that, Grace jumped up from her seat and headed towards the elevator. 

Joan smiled as she watched her friend walk away. She looked over at Adam, who was watching the two girls with quiet amusement. "I-- I think that was a compliment..."

"Unchallenged."

_JoA~~JoA_

Joan, Adam, and Grace exited from the elevator, back onto the fourth floor. Joan walked ahead, with Adam and Grace bringing up the rear. As they walked back towards Mr. Price's room, ahead of them they spied Luke and Iris outside and waiting anxiously in front of a closed door.

Iris was playing with the drawstring on her bag when she looked up and spotted Adam and his friends. She gave a slight smile at the young woman walking ahead, "Hey, Joan."

Joan tossed a kind smile towards Iris, with a nod, "Iris..."

"Hey," Iris reached out and placed a hand on Joan's arm, stopping her. With a sincere smile, "For what it's worth, I think that it's cool of you to ditch school just to spend time with Mr. Price. He had told us a bit about why you were here, right before Adam and Grace went looking for you. Hey, did'ja know that there was, like, this harsh rumor about how no one has paid him a visit? It's awesome that you got to be the first to kill it."

"Not from where I'm standing..." Grace softly quipped, which only Joan seemed to hear. Remembering what Adam had briefly informed her of Grace's promise to leave Iris alone, Joan tossed her friend a raised look. "What?" She stared back at Joan, then mildly replying, "Rome wasn't built in a day."

She shook her head at her friend before turning back towards Iris, who was slightly confused by the exchange. To Iris, "I'll take that as a compliment." She was unsure as to what Price might have told the others once she had fled the scene, but hearing the understanding in Iris's voice, she found herself hoping that his words had affected everyone... including her mom.

Luke was pacing back and forth, somewhat nervously. Upon hearing Iris acknowledge his sister's presence, he snapped his head towards her. "Joan? Hey..."

Joan joined her brother's side, as he anxiously stood by the door. Giving him a questioning glance, "So, how bad does the punishment look for me?"

Luke nodded an estimate, "I'd say five to eight..."

"Weeks?" Adam spoke, joining Iris's side.

Joan scoffed, "If I'm lucky."

"Adam, our mother is a wife of a law enforcement officer. And the offenses are as followed; perjury, truancy, and conspiracy against authority. " Luke added, "In other words, we're talking _months_."

"I had heard, somewhere, that a mother's wrath is worst than God's." Iris commented, which earned her a weary glance from Joan.

"I always thought that it was a _woman's_ wrath, yo?" Adam asked, looking down at Iris before taking a reflective pause, "Or am I thinking of the whole 'hell hath no fury than a woman scorned'?"

With a chuckle, Grace quipped, "Very smart man that coined that phrase..."

Joan groaned, "Thanks, guys... this is really making me feel a lot better." She bit her lip, eyeing the door nervously. Finally, taking a deep breath, "Okay, wish me luck... I'm going in."

Grace gave a slight wave as Joan knocked and turned the door knob. "Nice knowing you, Giradi."

_JoA~~JoA_

She stuck her head in, casting the two adults in the room a shy and hesitant smile. "Hey... is it safe to come in?"

While Price was in the same position that she had left him, Helen had sat herself down on the chair next to his bed. From the young woman's point of view, they seemed to be having a casual conversation. Upon hearing Joan's voice, they turned their heads.

Joan braced herself for the worst, but was relieved, not to mention surprised, when her mother ushered her in with a calm "Come on in, Joan."

She walked towards them, slowly and unsure. "I-- I, uh, I guess I have some explaining to do."

Helen nodded, "Yes, you do, young lady. Your father and I expect to hear the whole _honest_ story later tonight."

Joan inwardly flinched upon hearing the latest lectures from her parents' lips. She gave her mom an apologetic smile, "Would it help my case if I promise to never do whatever I did wrong again?"

Helen stood up, walking towards her daughter and placing a loving arm around her. Giving her a motherly squeeze and a look before softly replying, "What do you think?"

With another flinch, Joan gave a helpless glance at Price. She turned to her mother, "May I at least speak to Mr. Price before I head home to await my trial and sentencing?"

"We'll be waiting for you outside, Joan." Helen replied. She gave an acknowledged nod to Price before leaving. "It was nice talking with you, Gavin. I'm glad to see that you're going to be okay and that the surgery was a success."

"Thank you, Helen. So, I'll be expecting another visit soon?" He briefly smiled at Joan before adding slyly, "Especially if you turn out to be exactly like your daughter."

Helen laughed, "Isn't it usually the _other_ way around?"

Joan shook her head, biting back a rueful laugh all her own. "You have no idea..."

As they watched Helen step outside and close the door behind her, Joan turned her gaze back to Price. She tilted her head, giving him a quiet smile. Her eyes then spied the home-made banner sized get-well card. With a gentle laugh, "Oh wow. Now _that_ really puts my puny card to shame..."

With a knowing remark, "I wouldn't underestimate the value of your gift."

She leaned closer towards the banner, examining the signatures and various short letters. Joan especially smiled upon two certain notes; a miniature caricature of Price by Adam and an _interesting_ declaration by Grace.

As if reading her mind, "I take it by the amused smile on your face that you're reading what Miss Polk had written to me?"

"Were you expecting as much?"

He replied with a shrug, "She was always one to try to get a rise out of me... whether or not I was incapacitated. I would've been insulted if she _hadn't_ signed such remarks. Which, by the way, that little insight is going to stay between us..."

Joan laughed, "Not a problem."

A comfortable silence fell between them as Joan continued to glance from one signature to the next. Price, however pressed for time with Helen waiting for her daughter just outside his door, broke the silence. "Joan, I spoke to your mother on your behalf."

"You did?" She stood straight, then headed back to the chair next to his bed.

"I explained to her how you were just doing what I had asked of you. I told her that I had wanted you to skip school so that I wouldn't have to go through this surgical ordeal alone. And that she should be really proud to have raised such an incredible caring daughter... someone who I realized was sacrificing her time to spend it with me, despite the fact that I'm the last person on earth who deserves such an honor." 

Joan stared at him, speechless. She didn't know whether to blush or cry or continue to stare in disbelief over his kind words.

"Your visits have meant a lot to me, Joan. And what had happened early? The very much rational part of myself would argue that I was just suffering from the effects of the anesthesia. The other part, however, wants to apologize immensely. If I had offended you in anyway, Joan, I am honestly sorry."

She smiled at him, "You pulled back first. That's all that should matter, Mr. Price. I mean, there are those weepy, lame Lifetime movies where teachers and students have done _far_ worst... so don't apologize. You were just trying to teach me, but I wouldn't listen."

Unsure, "Then why does it seem like that incident will be hanging over our heads like a guillotine ready to strike?"

Joan glanced down, then softly replied, "Maybe because of who we once were to each other?... How, in the past, we didn't exactly see eye to eye and now..."

"We were just thrown together into each other's lives?"

With a small smirk, "In a way..." Joan held his gaze, "Look, I learned one of a few things today-- more than I should have been able to process, but-- things change. We can't go back, but just move on... I guess I just have to get used to you as much as you have to get used to me. At least now I know that you're not that bad of a guy... at least _outside_ of school. And I'm sure that your impression of me has changed." She gave him a haughty grin, which caused him to laugh and shake his head at her.

"It certainly has, Joan." He smiled.

"Especially with you telling me about your son..." Joan cast him a bittersweet smile, "I really wish that I still could have done something... anything to bring him here."

He looked at her, touched by her regret. Putting her at ease, "I don't think you have to worry about that." Price spoke, "See, I had gotten a call last night, after you left..." He took an intentional pause, "From Jaime."

"Really? What did she say?"

"Well," He crossed his arms, mischief in his eyes as he explained, "First I have to ask your mother a question."

Confused, "Ask my mom what?"

"If there's anyway that your _sentence_ could partially be carried out here, with me, and somewhat waive, say, next week Saturday? There's someone that I'd like you to meet..."

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_


	14. Epilogue: Nice to Finally Meet You

**Epilogue: Nice to Finally Meet You**

The last time that he had been in this city, the image of his father had been one involving him caught up in this imminent battle. It had caused a fear within the young man, for he had know it was bound to happen between the two most adored people in his life-- he could just see it in their eyes-- and, he had hoped against hope at being witness to their fury. Mainly because of a child's ultimate guilt: Is it my fault? However, years have passed, the image now blurred with regret and time, and the current image of his father wasn't of anger and hidden guilt... it was of laughter and inner bliss.

It had been five long years since he had embraced his father. He was just a little boy and upon receiving that one final hug at the airport, he had found that it was the most uncomfortable, and most dreadful, moment he shared with his dad. With that hug came a foreboding that the "good-bye" would last a lot longer than either of them anticipated. He tried to keep hope that it was just his child-like fear and paranoia, that the summer would once again reunite father and son... However, that year, and the years to follow, had just brought a stillness to his life that was far worst than the silence born with him. One could have argued with him that he could have done something, but outside influences-- whom had ironically been his only support-- had convinced his inner selfishness that it was his father's decision. So over those brief years, over those somewhat empty summers, the young man had grown numb and accustomed to the silence from his father's side of the world. However, the little boy within, that would always admire his dad, still kept hope. Still held on to the unbreakable ties between parent and child... and he was certainly glad that he did.

It had been five long years... His mother had approached him a week ago, the look in her eyes spoke of conflict and guilt. He had noticed, a few days before that, his mother walking around with an emotional burden that he had seen only once; during the moments that had lead up to his parents' final confrontation. An inner alarm had rung in his chest and he knew right away that whatever his mother had to say; it was about his father. She proceeded to tell him about his dad's untimely fall, which had caused unfortunate tears on both legs. She had said how his father was in the hospital and that a few hours from now, at the time she was explaining, he'll go into surgery... alone. Never had the young man been more scared, nor more furious at his mother for attempting to withhold such information. Expecting as much, she continued explaining that she had already booked themselves a flight to Arcadia that weekend. That she was extremely sorry for not telling him sooner and that despite his own desperation to see his father immediately, he had to be rational and think of school. She had already arranged for him to take a week off, just to spend time with his bed-ridden father. Forgiveness had already been given, though he feigned anger just to spite.

Upon the ride over from the airport to the hospital, he had been wracked with guilt and fear for his father. Worried beyond anything else at the thought of his father all alone. He had thought of all those times in the past, how his father had stayed devotedly by his side, no questions asked, no protest taken. Growing up, his parents, especially his dad, had done their best to make sure that he would grow up with not just his voice being heard, but the world being spoken to him as well. As a youth, he had experienced low points that no child should ever go through... but his father had always reached down and pulled him up. Now, realizing that this was his own father's low point, the son wanted nothing more than to return the love and the favor. 

His mother had explained to him that despite his fear, his dad wasn't really alone. She had spoken to him that Friday evening and he had told her about one of his students. That this young woman, a Miss Joan Giradi, had been keeping his father company for the past week since being admitted to the hospital. How this Joan Giradi never left his father's side and was more than looking forward to meeting her vice principal's prodigal son. This was news to him, but as much relief it gave him, he still found it unsettling that a mere student was the one to be there for his dad and not him... his own son. He tried to push that thought away, however, for it was ridiculous speculation like that in being the final straw to his parents' marriage. He focused on the positive that at least his father wasn't _really_ alone... just going through this without his son by his side.

At the hospital, they were greeted by a woman receptionist with a cheerful smile and, what he could only assume, a knowing twinkle in her eye. His mother had proceeded to explain to the woman that they were here to visit one Gavin Price. The woman pointed out the room number, _however_ that wouldn't help much at this point because if she recalled, Mr. Price was taken for a stroll outside on the hospital's lush grounds. They headed towards where the woman pointed out and soon enough, they found him.

His father, though had naturally aged quite a bit, never looked so happy to just be alive. He wasn't alone, for he was within the company of what the young man could assume was his father's students. They were all gathered underneath this big tree; his father sitting in a wheelchair, a girl, at least he hoped so, leaning against the tree with a mild, amused scowl on her face, a young man sitting on the grass and merely sketching, and another young woman, who was sitting comfortably next to the young artist, that was talking animatedly to his father and making him laugh. The young man immediately figured out which of the three students was the infamous Joan Giradi. 

He watched the sight before him, wanting to burn it in his memory and erase that horrible blurred image of the past. He recognized the peace on his father's face and a desperate empty part of himself wished he could now feel the same. At the encouraging of his mother, he slowly made his way towards the group.

Half way there, his father had unintentionally glanced up and saw him. The look of laughter changed into one of recognition and disbelief. His father stared at him, stunned, yet the joy in his eyes was clearly shining. The young woman had stopped talking and gazed over at what had caught Gavin Price's attention. The other two students glanced over, though it was the young woman with the bright eyes and glowing smile that seemed to recognize who he was. She stood up, gazed over at his dad and seemed to comfort his surprise with soft words. His father gave the young woman's hand a grateful squeeze, before turning his gaze once more to hold onto the sight of his son.

If he didn't already have his heart taken back home in New York, the young man swore that he could have fallen deeply in love with this young woman. She walked towards him with a humble confidence. Her eyes smiling at him in the same fashion she had given his father a moment ago. An excited, yet somewhat nervous, grin on her face. He could only assume that she was about the same age as his sixteen, going on seventeen, years... maybe younger.

She approached him and, to his surprise and delight, she held out her hand to him before signing, "Hi, Andrew. My name's Joan. It's nice to finally meet you."

**THE END**

_JoA~~JoA~~JoA_

Author's Final Note: Ha Ha! I'm done! *falls back on computer chair with utter relief* You multi-chapter authors out there probably knows what this feels like. I hope you had enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. When I started out with this story, I had intended on three concepts for Joan; getting her back together with Adam, having her become a part of Price's life, and having her involved in an insightful conversation with CBG. As you can see, I had to sacrifice one of the concepts because ultimately this was a Joan/Price story with the same underlying theme that seemed to span beyond just those two and towards everyone around them. Hope you got what I was trying to convey and I hope you really did enjoy this story. I guess I don't have to ask you to review, but it would place my weary mind at ease. 

And for those of you that have kept up with this story and given me those kind reviews... expect a pineapple or a pina colada in the mail. *grins* All kidding aside, I can't tell you how much you guys have inspired me to want to finish this story. I want to dedicate this final part of the story to you guys!

Thank you so much for taking the time to read and until next time... ALOHA!


End file.
